


Blue Arrow

by TheUnicornFountain



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, Zelda Wii U
Genre: AU, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Multi, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 163,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2443736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnicornFountain/pseuds/TheUnicornFountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Link is a hero to some and a menace to most. While haunted by a past he can't let go of, he struggles to find his course in life. Seemingly by chance, that life crosses with one of a Gerudo king, and the spark of their friendship ignites a series of events that will force both to face what they would rather not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hero Worship

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the _Zelda Wii U_ teaser trailer shown at E3 2014, _Blue Arrow_ is a story I wrote to work out my ideas and hopes for the new game. I wanted to place Link in a position where he may not exactly be a hero, and Ganondorf in a role that isn't exactly that of a villain. In short, I wanted them to be friends with the tension of their shared destiny between that friendship.
> 
> This story will feature occasional words and phrases in my created Sheikan, Gerudian, and Zoran languages. (Sheikan is closer to root words, Gerudian is full of sharp consonants, and Zoran is flowy with few hard consonants.) Most of the translations are understandable within the context of the work. In addition, direct translations will be listed chronologically in the bottom notes when not directly translated in-text. I decided to make up a few words and phrases instead of saying something similar to "X said in Sheikan/Gerudian/Zoran" because I feel it adds a bit of authenticity to the various characters' origins/races. 
> 
> Lastly, readers will find the Hyrule in this story, its places, and its characters are a mix of various _Zelda_ games.
> 
> Comments, questions, and constructive criticism are always welcomed and appreciated. Please enjoy, thank you.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Chapter One: Hero Worship

The sharp crack of a falling tree echoed over the forest, followed by a dull boom. Birds took to the air, screeching warnings that drew the attention of Sakura and Kukiel as they hurried up the side of a hill. The two young girls stopped to peer up through the canopy where the silhouettes of the frightened birds flashed between branches. A second boom rumbled, spurring the birds.

“Come on, Kukiel!” Sakura dragged her friend a few steps further up the hill. “He’ll be here soon!”

“Right,” Kukiel replied, reminded of what she and Sakura had snuck out of the village to see. She hurried up the hill on her friend’s heels, using saplings and underbrush as handholds when the slope increased.

The top of the hill flattened out into a small plateau of soft grass that extended to the edge of the hill’s face. Said face was a scar of exposed rock and loose soil that swept down to a meadow in the midst of the forest. Two deer were grazing by the stream that ran through the middle of the expanse. At the sound of a third, closer boom, the deer lifted their heads and swiveled their ears towards the meadow’s west side. 

From within the trees to the west, a beam of short-lived blue light shot out. Straight as a pole, it lanced across the meadow and struck the trees on the opposite side. The deer bounded away, their hides singed. The line of fire left behind by the light found little purchase, as it had rained only that morning and the grass and trees were still wet.

Lying flat against the wet grass with their heads over the hill’s edge, Sakura and Kukiel gasped in both admiration and fear. They recognized this light, as well as its destruction. It was the main weapon of the _mashitako_ \--a creature of foreign design with a dome-like rock body and tentacle arms that glowed with a strange light. The _mashitako_ had threatened Hyrule for the better part of the past month. Little was known about the creature’s origin or why it was always enraged. So great was its power and ruin, few people dared to gather together as a force to face against it; and only one was courageous enough to face it alone.

With a violent parting of the tree line, the _mashitako_ crashed into the meadow. Its six tentacles, five of them ending in four-fingered claws (the sixth was a half--broken how, no one knew), tore up chunks of earth as it raced to put distance between itself and its aggressor. When the _mashitako_ reached the stream, it hesitated. 

Kukiel gasped and pointed down the hill’s face. “There he is, Sakura!”

Sakura had already seen the horse and its rider emerge from the forest in the wake of the _mashitako’s_ ravaged path. The duo stood on the edge of the broken tree line. They smoldered from an earlier near-miss of the monster’s attack, and for a minute they watched the _mashitako_ attempt to work a way over the wide stream without getting its claws stuck in the muddy bed. 

The horse was a dark brown mare with a black mane and tail, and white fetlocks. Her rider was mostly hidden under a black cloak marked by a gray and red design. Sakura and Kukiel were familiar with this stranger through both stories of his conquests against monsters, and from catching glimpses of him in the field and forest around their village. They knew to look for the flash of blue under the cloak that was the stranger’s telltale tunic, and for the unique weapon lashed to his horse’s saddle that had given him his newest nickname.

“Blue Arrow,” Sakura whispered, sharing an awed smile with Kukiel. The girls got to their feet and waved their sedge hats, calling out more or less in unison, “Go, Onii-san! Get the _mashitako!_ ” along with various other encouragements. 

The _mashitako_ turned to face its challenger.

The stranger, named Link, heard the calls but paid them no attention. The monster--what locals called _mashitako_ \--sent out its blue light again, angling it down this time to catch him. Link was already several feet away; he knew what to look for in the monster’s eerie, glowing eye. He felt a wash of heat flatten his cloak, pressing it to his arms and back, and he tore it off in frustration. It fluttered away on the warmed air to crumple into a pile on the grass. With the cloak gone, the whole blue of Link’s tunic was revealed, along with his ponytail and sidelocks. The girls’ voices spiked to an ecstatic note at this development. 

After four previous encounters, the battle with the _mashitako_ was a familiar one to Link by now. At a distance, he could use his horse Epona’s better agility against the monster’s wider turns, and keep out of range of its arms. But to attack it from afar would require the use of arrows, and they in turn would enrage the _mashitako_ to close the distance to Link. It was a risk he had to take. He had chased the creature across Hyrule for weeks, following its trail of destruction and--inadvertently--provoking it to cause more damage through its attacks against him. Today was the day to end all that.

Link pulled a bomb arrow from the quiver hanging on Epona’s saddle. It had taken a lot of practice and several burnt fingertips before he had developed a method to light the arrows as they were pulled from their quiver. A ring of steel on the quiver’s inside lip sparked across a flint tip at the end of each arrow’s fuse, lighting the thin fiber. It rarely failed to catch, and when it didn’t Link only had to reinsert the arrow to strike the flint again. 

The fuse caught, and Link raised the arrow as he detached his bow from the other side of the saddle. The arrow swung awkwardly from his fingers with the extra weight of the black powder packed around its point. However, Link was familiar with how the arrows handled; he had little trouble in stabilizing the arrow in the bow’s rest and taking aim, all before the fuse was half-spent. He waited until the right time to release. (A hard-learned moment that had cost him a few inches of singed bangs months ago.) The arrow sang when it flew through the air, and it struck the _mashitako’s_ right side with a satisfying, booming burst of fire.

The _mashitako_ wasn’t capable of making a sound of pain, if it felt such a thing. It was as silent as its opponent; its body only staggered for a second, and its arms tensed. Link had already pulled out a second bomb arrow and taken aim. It struck the _mashitako_ on its left an instant after the monster relaxed its arms. 

Sakura and Kukiel cheered and danced in place. They called out praise and encouragement that bounced down the hill’s scarred face and across the meadow. They hushed when the _mashitako_ charged at their hero. The rumble of its steps vibrated through their feet at the top of the hill where they stood close together. They held each other’s hands in both solidarity and in a silent prayer to the Goddesses.

Epona was familiar with the battle against the monster as well. She hardly balked at Link’s direction for her to gallop forward to meet the _mashitako._ A foot from the edge of the monster’s reach, Link drove Epona into a sharp turn. The _mashitako_ blew past and hurried to stop. Its upper body--a column-like structure--pivoted independently while the arms scrambled for purchase. The dangerous eye was brought to bear, and another shot of the blue light made the wet grass hiss in Epona’s wake. 

Link tugged at Epona’s reins, guiding her back and forth in half-circles around the _mashitako._ The monster’s eye followed him, striking out with its dangerous light, but he never stayed in one place longer than it took to pull out and aim a bomb arrow. The fiery arrows found their mark on the monster four more times. Each boom was echoed by the young spectators’ cries of approval. 

In the wake of the bomb arrows, the _mashitako_ was nearing the end of its endurance. Link could see fatigue in the monster’s slowing arms. He had to end this quickly before the _mashitako_ decided to use its remaining energy to flee. He dodged another shot of the blue light and pulled Epona to a stop. He felt her shaking beneath him. Her strength, too, was waning, yet she bowed forward, bracing herself, as her rider pulled out yet another bomb arrow.

There was a noted absence of a crackling fire in Link’s right ear, but it wasn’t until he notched the arrow and drew it back did he notice the fuse had failed to catch. There was no time to relax the bow and attempt a relight. The glow of the _mashitako's_ eye was intensifying. Link let the arrow go; it struck the monster’s hard outer body and broke apart in a rain of splinters, torn burlap, and black powder. Before the whisper of the black powder against the _mashitako's_ body had ceased, Link was already pulling out his trump card. 

The failed bomb arrow, though harmless, distracted the _mashitako_ just long enough for Link to get his feet out of his stirrups and under him. Epona, recognizing the cue, reared up to give Link more height as he leapt up from the saddle. The _mashitako's_ light beam shot through the empty air between the saddle and Link’s boots; he felt the heat in his heels. 

As he rose, Link brought his bow around and notched the most unique arrow of his collection. It was even more awkward than the bomb arrows, with a salvaged relic lashed to the point. An extension on the relic snapped out when Link flipped open a cap and pulled a hidden switch within. It birthed a blue light--not unlike the _mashitako's_ weapon of choice--that formed into an intricately curved blade. 

Link had a half-second to aim before he began to descend. He used it to its fullest, lining up the arrow with the _mashitako's_ eye. The arrow snapped forward, and the object lashed to it struck the eye an inch from its middle. There was an explosion of light and fire that rippled the air. 

Link hit the ground in a crouch. He kept his head down as the _mashitako's_ arms thrashed above him. The hand not around his bow whipped around to his lower back to grip the hilt of the short blade there, beneath his quiver. He tensed, waiting for retaliation.

Yet the _mashitako_ was through with fighting. It staggered away from Link with its arms flailing at the arrow stuck in its eye. The attempts to loosen it petered out, and the creature was left to stumble across the meadow until one of its arms slipped on the wet bank of the stream. The _mashitako_ half-collapsed into the water, sending low waves hissing over the grass. It moved no longer.

Sakura and Kukiel whooped as one when they saw their hero straighten out of his crouch. They clutched hands and spun in place, laughing and cheering. One side of the cheers heightened to a scream when Kukiel’s enthusiastic feet sent her tumbling over the edge of the hill. Sakura screamed her friend’s name and dropped down against the grass in an impossible attempt to catch her. Her fingers caught on Kukiel’s collar and gripped, but the weight of her friend sent Sakura tumbling over the edge next.

Death waited for the girls at the foot of the hill where large rocks had fallen and collected over the years. They screamed, their eyes filled with the pain that they could already imagine. The screams were jolted away when the girls came to a sudden stop. Something had caught them in midair. 

Kukiel could feel her collar digging into her neck. She looked up, swaying, to see an arrow shaft adorned with familiar green and white fletching. It was stuck through the back of her shirt and buried in the hill’s face, holding her up. A few feet higher, Sakura hung from a similar arrow. The two girls met each other’s eyes with wide alarm that quickly spilled over into giddy laughter. 

Sakura was the first to stop laughing, and her eyes shifted past Kukiel at the same time. Kukiel looked down to see a familiar stranger at the base of the hill. He stood with his hands on his hips, and his blue eyes studied the girls with gentle admonishment.

“Onii-san, you’re so awesome!” Sakura cried, seeming to forget that she hung on the brink of danger. Kukiel rolled her eyes but she, too, quivered with excitement. This was the closest she and her friend had ever come to their hero.

Link shook his head, lowered his bow to the ground, and raised his hands to take hold of the rocky face. He climbed up it with quick grace, finding hand and foot holds where there appeared to be none. He reached Kukiel first and indicated with a motion of a hand that she should grab hold of him. Once she had a secure grip, Link tugged the arrow out of the rock face and through her shirt. He put the arrow in his mouth, leaving his hands free to continue climbing. 

Kukiel clung to her hero’s back and tried to quell the quick thump of her heart. She was so close… She could feel her hero’s ponytail against her cheek. She had never noticed before how young he was--surely no older than twenty. And he had the loveliest pierced ears, and the heat of his back against her was thrilling, and his sidelocks were quite cute, and…

Link worked his way up to Sakura next, moving a little slower with the extra weight. She, too, was prompted to take hold of him before he removed the arrow keeping her aloft. 

“Onii-san, don’t you talk?” Sakura asked as she took hold of her hero’s shirt. Kukiel hissed a warning at her to shut up, which in turn earned her a snappy retort, which of course had to be countered.

Link put the girls’ squabbling out of mind and braced both arrows against the rock face. He used them to slow his descent when he loosened his footholds and slid down the rock. The girls’ quarrelling turned first to screams before they became cheers of delight. When Link touched solid ground, the girls dropped off of him and rolled around on the grass, laughing. There was no sign of their earlier antagonism.

Link picked up his bow and left them be. He had to collect his arrow from the _mashitako._ The object lashed to it was too precious to waste. He had found it in a scattering of ruins miles from here, and his presence there had awakened the monster he had only just vanquished. As Link walked, he looked around and wondered what sort of harassment he would get for the shattered trees and scorched grass; not to mention the downed monster partially blocking the stream, which was a vital source of water for the nearby village’s rice fields.

Link climbed the _mashitako's_ body with the same ease he had displayed while climbing the hill. It took a little more work to free the arrow’s unique head from the _mashitako's_ eye. Sparks of blue light flew from the dark eye when Link managed to wiggle the arrow free. The blue blade was dormant, but Link knew the power was still there. He snapped the object closed and dropped off of the _mashitako's_ body.

Sakura and Kukiel were waiting for Link. They gave him a bit of a start, as he had not heard them approach despite their penchant for giggling every time they looked at him. He waited as they pushed one another forward only to have to do it all over again when the one in front turned right back around. After several rounds of this back and forth, Sakura stepped forward with Kukiel right at her back, peering over her shoulder. 

“Um… Thank you for saving us,” Sakura said, bowing low.

“And for defeating the _mashitako_ and saving our village,” Kukiel added.

“And for defeating the _mashitako_ and saving our village,” Sakura echoed, looking up with a shy smile.

There was more. Link could see it in the girls’ shifting feet and clasped hands. He waited, arms folded, the arrow stuck out beneath his elbow, until Kukiel finally asked in a rush, “Can we pet your horse?”

Epona was farther downstream, drinking. Link turned his head and whistled three quick, descending notes. The mare’s ears perked up and she lifted her head. A double-click of Link’s tongue brought her to his side. He kept hold of her reins as the girls fell to petting her neck. Epona wasn’t fond of strangers.

And yet, something about the girls had a calming effect on the mare. She endured the attention without flattened ears or a pawing hoof. Link decided it was safe to go a little further. He secured his bow and arrow amongst his saddle bags and took out a small, white sack. Epona nickered and mouthed at the sack when Link came back around her front. He discouraged her searching mouth with a gentle push before he crouched in front of the girls and motioned for them to hold out their hands. A handful of oats was deposited in each girl’s cupped palms. They fed these to Epona one turn at a time. Their laughter at the touch of her velvety lips was balm enough for the ache in Link’s back and arms.

Epona finished Sakura’s handful first. The girl brushed spit and missed oats from her hands against the grass before she straightened up and volunteered, “I’ll get your cloak for you, Onii-san.” 

Link nodded his thanks. Sakura set off at a run to the far side of the meadow where the cloak was discarded. Link watched her, admiring her ease in childhood, until a sharp whinny snapped his head around. 

Kukiel had backed away from Epona and now stood regarding the rearing mare in fear. At first, Link thought the girl had unintentionally upset Epona. He rushed forward and placed himself between his horse and the young girl. He snatched Epona’s reins and fell to settling her down, but none of the usual tactics worked. 

Something rumbled nearby. Link looked around for the source of the sound and his eyes caught fresh ripples in the water around the downed _mashitako._

Kukiel took off running when she saw one of the _mashitako's_ submerged arms arc up to plant itself against the stream’s bank. She met Sakura halfway across the meadow; the girl was returning with her hero’s cloak neatly folded in her hands. The friends once more took up a stance close together as they looked on at the scene unfolding by the stream.

Link had enough time to pull his bow and makeshift arrow from Epona’s saddlebags before the mare bolted. The _mashitako_ was gaining its feet, pulling itself out of the water a foot at a time. Water flowed off of it in sheets, and the blue light in the kinks of its arms stuttered to life. Its shimmering eye caught sight of Epona, and it shot a weak beam of light at the mare. Link watched the beam graze the top of Epona’s rump. The mare screamed with pain and quickened her pace until she was safe within the shadows of the tree line.

Link turned back to the _mashitako,_ his face dark and his mouth set in a thin line. The creature’s eye fixed on him next, and two of its arms rose up with flexing claws. Link gave the _mashitako_ no chance to land a hit. He ran forward, his bow and arrow in hand. The _mashitako's_ arms swung at him once he was within range. Link dodged them by sliding forward on his knees across the wet grass. He stopped in the shadow of the _mashitako's_ body, arched his upper body rearwards, and aimed his arrow straight up.

Sakura and Kukiel watched the arrow bloom to life beneath the _mashitako,_ highlighting their hero in a blue light. They never saw the arrow released, as the immediate explosion of light wiped out the view. Rings of blue lightning flashed over the _mashitako,_ which was reaching down for its attacker. The arms stuttered to a halt, and its body shuddered once. Every bit of light left it in an instant, and it dropped with the suddenness of a stone. 

The girls gasped and clung to each other while they rode out the tremor of the _mashitako's_ fallen body. In the silence that followed, they stared at the monster in hopes of seeing their hero walk away unharmed. After a half-minute had gone by with no movement, Sakura became overcome by emotion. “Onii-san! _Onii-san!_ ” She screamed this again and again while hanging onto her friend for support. Tears rushed down her face, and she wobbled on weak knees.

Kukiel was close to tears herself, but she kept herself calm for both her and Sakura’s sakes. An idea had just come to mind. “Come on, Sakura!” Kukiel urged. She yanked on her friend’s arms until Sakura stood up on her own. “Listen, can you whistle? I can’t.”

Sakura understood the request. She copied the mare’s song, casting the whistle towards the tree line where the horse huddled. The mare trotted forward willingly enough and allowed the girls to take hold of her reins. They led her to the smoking remains of the _mashitako._

“I have an idea,” Kukiel said. “Back up, okay?” Sakura did as told, taking the mare with her, but not before Kukiel pulled a bomb arrow out of the quiver amongst the saddlebags. The arrow’s fuse lit up, as Kukiel guessed it would. She tossed it at the base of the _mashitako_ where its body met the ground. The arrow clattered against the _mashitako_ and fell beside it, crackling. Kukiel backed up to stand beside Sakura; the girls waited. 

The explosion cracked the air. Once the smoke cleared, Sakura and Kukiel rushed forward to inspect the damage. The arrow had done little to the _mashitako,_ but it had created a deep crater in the ground beneath. Sakura knelt at the edge of the crater, stuck her head beneath the _mashitako,_ and called, “Onii-san!” 

The low sound of shifting dirt answered the call. A dirty hand reached out from beneath the _mashitako_ to grip its edge; a second hand appeared, clutching the broken-off, foreign arrowhead. The girls cheered and helped their hero to his feet once he had slid out from beneath the monster. He dropped down again when he was clear of the crater to rest his back against the _mashitako's_ side. His clothes and exposed skin were stained with mud, his hair was a mess, there was a frightening cut on his cheek… but he was alive. The girls pressed against his sides as best as they could in a tight embrace. He endured the attention with minimal unease in his face.

Epona walked forward, eager for attention as well. She mouthed Link’s messy bangs, and he pressed his forehead against her long nose, smiling. Her reins provided the ballast he needed to regain his feet for good, and he fell to inspecting her wound. Sakura and Kukiel rose to their feet as well and looked on, their faces tight with concern. They smiled when their hero’s shoulders relaxed. The horse’s wound wasn’t too bad, it seemed.

“Onii-san, here is your cloak,” Sakura spoke up. She presented the folded cloak to her hero, her face glowing with reverence. 

Kukiel noticed her hero’s eyes darken a little when he accepted the cloak. “It doesn’t go well with your tunic,” she remarked, knowing even at her young age that there was something behind the somber look. 

Link gave no indication that Kukiel’s comment pricked at him. His mind had other ideas, and it rushed him with guilt. How could he ever tell these young girls the truth? How could he explain to them that their hero was an outcast; a pariah; unwelcomed anywhere because of the destruction and monsters he attracted, like a wounded fawn attracted wolfos to the larger herd?

Instead of letting the girls see anymore of his grief, Link smiled. Against his better judgment ( _Don’t build ties,_ it warned him) he kissed each girl once on the back of a hand in thanks for their help. The girls gushed over the genteel act. Link wondered if the blush would ever leave their cheeks.

A call carried through the forest. “Sakura! _Sakura!_ Are you in those woods? Come out of there right now!”

Sakura groaned and slumped on her feet. “It’s my mom,” she moaned. “Not now. Not when it was getting good.” 

Kukiel laughed. “Maybe she should have come calling when the monster was still raging around.”

Sakura laughed too. Her mother’s second call cut the sound short. “I’m coming!” she shouted back. Impatience sharpened the words. With a roll of her eyes, Sakura faced her hero again. “Thank you, Onii-san, for everything.” She bowed and, with a sheepish smile, waved goodbye before taking off for the tree line. 

Kukiel sighed as she watched Sakura run off. “I’d better go, too. My mom is probably worrying about me. We aren’t supposed to leave the village when the _mashitako_ is around.” _Or when you’re around, Onii-san,_ the subtext whispered. 

Kukiel turned forward again to say goodbye, and her face dropped when she saw the gray cloak was around her hero once more, obscuring his torso and face. Kukiel thought fast on a way to encourage the smile back to her hero’s lips. “Onii-san, do you want to come to my house for lunch? We have a horse doctor in our village, too. She can see to your mare’s wound.”

Link drew further into the gloom of his cloak and pressed his back against Epona’s side. He kept his head down to maximize the shadow over his face, and he waited for the pair of sandals he could see to turn away. After half a minute they did, accompanied by the shifting of Kukiel’s shadow that indicated a bow. She murmured a goodbye as she turned. 

Link caught Kukiel’s shoulder and spun her around. She smiled at the sight of his dropped hood, and nodded when he lifted a finger to indicate she should stay. As Kukiel waited, her feet squishing against the muddy bank, Link turned to the saddlebags and dug around in them. 

Kukiel took the time to inspect what she could see of her hero’s belongings. She spied a sheathed sword that was longer than the short blade at his lower back, as well as a shield. There was also the bomb arrow quiver, the special arrowhead, and… Her heart dropped a little at the sight of a bedroll and folded canvas tent.

When Link turned around, there was no indication of sorrow in Kukiel’s face. He held out what he had put together for her and Sakura: matching necklaces of braided leather with a stone arrowhead tied in the middle. 

“Th-thank you so much, Onii-san!” Kukiel rushed out, her tongue tripping over the words. She accepted her gift with a shaking hand and immediately set to tying it around her neck. Once done, she pocketed Sakura’s gift with a promise to hand it over. Link bowed to her in appreciation, eliciting a deeper blush in Kukiel’s face. The hood was raised again when he straightened up. 

Kukiel understood it was time to leave. She offered another word of thanks before walking away. At the tree line, she paused and turned back. Her hero was at the stream’s bank, putting together a mud and herb poultice on a scrap of burlap. This he pressed to his horse’s wounded rump while his free hand stroked calm against her side. Kukiel smiled and turned away, confident the two of them would be okay.

##########  
**Translations:**

 _mashitako:_ I created this name for the unknown monster in the _Zelda Wii U_ trailer. It is a blend of the Japanese words for "machine" ( _mashin_ ) and "octopus" ( _tako_ ).

 _Onii-san:_ Borrowed directly from Japanese. A respectful term for a young man of older age, it is the name that Kukiel and Sakura use for Link in their appearances throughout the fic.


	2. Petrichor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two shows some of what haunts Link, and brings in a familiar Gerudo king along with a Sheikan nurse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct translations for the Sheikan words used in this chapter are available below the chapter, however the words are understandable within the chapter's context.
> 
> Comments, questions, and constructive criticism are always appreciated. Please enjoy, thank you.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Petrichor

In the wake of his hard-earned victory over the _mashitako,_ Link did everything he could to avoid thinking too deeply. He saw to Epona’s burn with a poultice and then cleaned his cut, washing the blood and grime from the cheek wound and patching it with a bandage. The bandage was his last. He also needed more black powder, and his emergency rations were getting old; they would need to be used up in the next day or two. All this meant he must go into a town or village soon--something he never liked. Or rather, something the other people never liked.

There was the thinking now. It had worked its way past Link’s minimal distractions and now it paraded facts across his tired mind. He shoved it away; shoved everything away. Sakura’s and Kukiel’s admiration was buried under a reminder that friends only led to hardship. It was foolish to get involved with people who would find out about his past and hate him for it. 

No time to worry about that at the moment. He and Epona needed rest from the morning’s long battle against the _mashitako,_ which had started hours before the final showdown in the meadow. The wet ground was no good for setting up camp, so Link took hold of Epona’s reins and guided her across a shallow portion of the stream where there was a firmer bed of rocks underfoot. Once on the other side of the stream, Link wiped most of the water off of himself and his mare, and led the way into the trees.

A half-hour’s walk through the forest brought Link and Epona to the edge of one of Hyrule Field’s wider portions. When they emerged from the tree line, Link paused to take in the view, which was amongst the best the kingdom had to offer. To the left, the great Zora Waterfall worked its way through a high slab of rock, casting off mist and faint rainbows. Death Mountain was to the right and further away. The glow of its active crater couldn’t be seen under the high noon sun, but the column of smoke stood out against the blue sky. Between the two landmarks was an assortment of rock formations, bodies of water, low hills, and higher mountains that gave the landscape its character. 

Link’s eyes slipped over the familiar scene, taking it in and letting its serenity calm his troubled thoughts. His gaze lingered on the rough middle of the view. Far across Hyrule Field, nearly invisible, a white castle glinted in the sun. He would have spent an eternity watching the spot of white if not for Epona, who nudged his shoulder and reminded him of the ache in his muscles. 

Camp was made on a hill where the view was open on all sides. Link relieved Epona of her tack and bags, rubbed her down, and set her to graze along the slope. She never wandered far, so he didn’t have to worry about her as he set up his tent and secured his belongings and bedroll within it. He would have preferred to sleep under the open sky, but the clouds on the distant horizon suggested more rain during the coming night.

Epona’s whinnies brought Link out of his tent. He looked down the slope to where she stood at the rough halfway point, snorting, rearing up, and tossing her head. His whistle brought her back up the slope, and together they looked down at its base where a rider atop a large black stallion stood. 

The rider’s wide body identified him as likely to be male. He sat confidently in his saddle, looking up at Link’s camp. The ornamentation on his horse’s tack, along with the man’s dark skin, red hair, and clothing, suggested an origin in the distant west of Hyrule. There, the kingdom bordered a territory granted by a past king to a group of people called the Gerudo. Link wasn’t sure if this man was a Gerudo himself; if he was, he was one of the long-lived kings of the mostly-female race. What was a Gerudo king doing so far into Hyrule? It wasn’t disallowed, but there were closer trade points to the Gerudian lands than the nearby village.

When he saw Link studying him, the man raised a hand a smiled. “’Hoy!” he called up the slope.

Link started. That greeting… He narrowed his eyes at the man. His left hand rose to stroke Epona’s head. She had calmed down, so it was more for his comfort than hers.

The man shook his head, muttered something, and looked away across the field. He appeared more disappointed in himself than in Link for the cold reception. His stallion shifted beneath him and tossed its long mane, snorting. “The name’s Ganondorf,” the man said, looking up at Link again. “You can call me Gan. I know how poorly Gerudian names fit on a Hylian tongue.” He bent over the unseen side of his saddle and detached something from the saddlebags. “Let’s get to know each other over a proper meal, hmmm?” Ganondorf raised two snared rabbits by their ears.

Link turned around and walked back to his tent. He began to break down his camp. 

“Suit yourself,” Ganondorf said minutes later when Link rode past him at a quick clip. “We’ll postpone our lunch date for later then!” the Gerudo called after Link. “You’re hardly a difficult person to track down, Blue Arrow! I’ll just follow the trail of scandal!”

Link ignored the jest. He ducked down close to Epona’s back and drove her as fast as he could until the Gerudo was no longer in sight behind him. It was then that he realized how foolish he was acting. He guided Epona to a relatively flat area of the field and halted her. Foam flecked her neck, and her breathing was harsh. Link freed her of her tack and gave her his last apple in apology once she was watered and rubbed down.

Link struck camp again where he and Epona had stopped. It took him twice as long this second time, as he stopped to look around every other minute. Once it was done, he left Epona and the tent, taking with him his bow and his quiver of normal arrows. There was a nearby copse where he knew a warren of rabbits lived. 

Link entered the copse and, ignoring his aches, climbed a familiar tree. A third of the way up the trunk, he straddled a thick branch and took out an arrow from the quiver at his lower back. From here, he could see the holes that made up the warren. A few rabbits came and went, but they were either too young to make a good meal or they were mothering kits. Finally, a decent-sized rabbit missing half its right ear hobbled out of a burrow. Link checked it for signs of illness, but it appeared to be only a weaker member. No loss to the warren’s overall health then. His arrow found its head. 

The other rabbits outside the warren scattered into the closest burrows. Link looped his bow over his chest and swung down from the branch, landing with knees bent. The impact was hard on his aching body. He reminded himself to get some rest before resuming his usual acrobatics. 

The last of the rabbit’s life twitched out of it when Link knelt by its body. He removed the arrow, mouthed a rite of thanks to the rabbit’s spirit, and took hold of its lopsided ears before standing up. 

“You’re a stubborn one,” Ganondorf remarked when Link’s eyes fell on him. The Gerudo had his shoulders resting against the very tree from where Link had made his kill. He had yellow eyes, Link now saw. They studied the Hylian in some irritation “I offered to treat you, if you’d recall. Instead, you gallop off on your tired horse and hunt from trees when you could be resting and having a friendly conversation with someone. Are you that averse to being sociable? You seemed to get along with those girls well enough today. What’s one more friend?”

Ganondorf had watched him? Link narrowed his eyes and took a half-step back. His right hand dropped to his quiver and his fingers caressed the fletching of an arrow. There was no way this man could have snuck up on Link in such a short window of time without his knowing. That meant two possibilities: Link’s fatigue was worse than he thought and thus it would be unwise to linger around this stranger; or the man practiced sorcery that allowed him to move about at will. The latter possibility was the more dangerous, as it was impossible to tell what else Ganondorf could do with such power.

Ganondorf rolled his eyes at Link’s wary display. “Listen,” he urged, “I didn’t ride halfway across Hyrule just to be turned away by the person I most wanted to meet. Your reputation has made it even as far as the Gerudo territory. It’s admirable, what you do--protecting people from monsters. People who don’t even appreciate your actions. But the Gerudo would. I’ve come to offer you a place amongst us. We could always use archers like you, and we don’t care about your past.” Ganondorf noticed Link’s tightening eyes. “ _Blue Arrow_ isn’t the only thing they call you, is it?” he pressed. “Let’s see, there’s…” Ganondorf paused in mock contemplation. “ _Dark Harbinger._ That’s a nice one, and popular in the trading towns. _The Monster Bringer._ Good, simple, and to the point. Oh, my favorite...” He laughed a little. “ _Silent Ruin._ ” 

The names weren’t new to Link. He liked them even less coming from this stranger’s smirking mouth. He tightened his grip around the fletching under his fingers. His other hand dropped the rabbit and took up his bow once again. 

“Go ahead,” Ganondorf challenged, nodding at the bow. “I’d like to see your skill up close. Can you hit this?” He indicated the hoop of gold that pierced his right ear. “I doubt it,” he added, laughing. “Not even my best girls could.”

There was no sign of fatigue in Link when he plucked out the arrow, notched it, and drew the bow in the span of a heartbeat. The arrow sang across the distance between him and Ganondorf. The Gerudo jerked with a hiss of pain when the earring was ripped from his ear. He heard the thud of the arrow in the expanse of trunk above his shoulder, along with a faint tinkling sound. 

Ganondorf wiped the blood from his ear and looked down at his stained fingertips. Something in his face hardened. He rubbed his fingers together, smearing the blood around, and fixed a dark look on Link. “All right. You’re good with a bow, I’ll give you that,” he relented in a low voice. He unstuck the arrow and caught his earring as it dropped from the point. Link lowered his bow and resumed his wary stance. He didn’t like the small changes he was seeing in the Gerudian man. “I just find it peculiar you would be so accomplished in a skill like that.” Ganondorf jerked his chin at the tunic Link wore. “Didn’t the Regn Tribe live off the bounty of a lake? Now if you were good with a fishing spear… That I could believe.”

The warmth drained from Link’s face. His fingers stuttered against the fletching of a new arrow. 

“So who taught you how to shoot?” Ganondorf continued while ignoring Link’s agitated state. “It couldn’t have been the Regn Tribe. They were all killed years ago.” His yellow eyes flickered with amusement. “Well, _almost_ all. What was it again? A Dark Wolfos, right? Helped itself to the whole little tribe, didn’t it? Must have had some appetite. Strange, though. They usually prefer high mountains for their territories, not lakeshores. I wonder how it came across such a feast.”

A fresh arrow was notched before Link knew what he was doing. He heard the strain in the drawn bow and watched the point dance before Ganondorf. The Gerudo showed no hint of fear. If anything, he appeared amused by the display. Link swallowed the knot in his throat and blinked away the burn of tears in his eyes. _Relax,_ a voice in his head begged. His body ignored the plea. The arrow was released; it went wild and disappeared beyond the edge of the copse behind Ganondorf. 

He missed? Link sucked in a harsh breath. The sound reminded him of Epona after the earlier hard run. He recognized the signs of mounting panic. Link fumbled for a third arrow only to have it drop from his shaking fingers as it cleared the quiver. It snapped under his feet when he took a step back, drawing a fourth arrow.

“I can see why it’s hard for you to make friends,” Ganondorf said when an arrow buried itself in the trunk a foot above his head. He stepped away from the tree and began to approach Link. “Those girls liked you well enough, but only because they don’t really know you, right?” Ganondorf’s tone rose to mock Sakura’s and Kukiel’s voices. “Onii-san, you’re so _awesome!_ Onii-san, you’re so _brave!_ Onii-san, thank you for saving us! Thank you for not letting us die like your sister did!” 

The copse was blurring before Link’s eyes. He blinked and tasted saltwater at the corner of his mouth. He had left a trail of dropped arrows in front of his retreating feet. More peppered the ground and trees around the copse. Link groped for the last two arrows in his quiver. He notched, drew, and released them together; both went wide. His hand sought out more arrows regardless. Finding the quiver empty, Link turned to run.

Ganondorf closed the last bit of distance before Link had barely begun to flee. His hand caught the Hylian’s ponytail and he tugged him to a stop. Link grimaced, dropped his bow, and raised his hands to pry off the grip, even as he was bent backwards. The effort was futile. Ganondorf was stronger, and for the moment he had the advantage of a calmer mind.

“Go ahead and scream,” Ganondorf urged. “Beg. Curse me, if you want. I know you want to, and I know you can.” He tugged harder on the ponytail. It was all Link could do to keep his heels flat on the ground. “I know a lot about you, and I don’t just mean your reputation. But I didn’t come here to harass you. I wanted to welcome you into my ranks. However, you failed my little test just now, and you need significant improvement to ever pass it. What am I supposed to do with someone who becomes unhinged so easily at any mention of his past? Who is so reckless with his life?” 

Link buried his fingernails into Ganondorf’s dark skin. A yank on the ponytail stilled the worse of the Hylian’s struggles. In a whisper, Ganondorf continued, “If those girls hadn’t been there today, what do you think would have happened? Or should I be asking what did you _hope_ would happen?” Ganondorf sneered and growled, “On the Goddesses, I hate your kind. You’re too afraid to face your grief so you throw your life at anything to avoid it. I can’t use you.”

Ganondorf pulled Link to the ground. The Hylian hit it hard and curled up, hiding his face behind the fold of an arm. “Forget I was ever here,” the Gerudo snapped down at him. “I don’t need unstable, suicidal brats. I rescind my offer.” He kicked dirt into Link’s covered face and walked away.

The snap of trodden arrows underscored Ganondorf’s departure. When all was quiet again, Link pressed his nose to the ground and took in the smell of the wet ground with hitching breaths. Who was this, putting the shake in his limbs and the tightness in his chest? This wasn’t him. He was stronger than this. He had to be, surely. All of that stuff was in the past… Behind him…

 _Relax,_ Aryll whispered. Link imagined her hands tucking him into bed. He could hear the distant lap of lake water against a pebbled shore. The smell of damp earth guided him deep into warmer memories. He drowned his grief beneath them.

#

_“Relax,” Aryll said again, laughing, as she tried to wrestle him into his bed. “You’re as wiggly as an eel tonight. What’s gotten into you?”_

_“It’s raining,” he said, pointing out the window above his headboard._

_“Yes,” Aryll confirmed. “What about it?”_

_He got out from under the blanket again and stood on his pillow to peer out the window. “My friend will get wet.”_

_“Friend?” Aryll repeated. “What friend? Someone here in the village?” He shook his head. “A trader?”_

_He shook his head again. “No, she lives in the mountain.”_

_“Oh, it’s a_ she, _” Aryll teased._

_He turned to her, his eight-year old face flushed. “It’s not like that!” he insisted._

_“Uh-huh,” Aryll said, still in that voice. She smiled when he glared at her. “So you think she’ll get wet?”_

_He looked back out the window. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “She stays in her cave all the time, but what if she wants to come visit me? She’ll have to walk in the rain.”_

_“It’s only rain,” Aryll reminded him. “And if she decides to visit tonight, we’ll dry her off and give her some warm milk. I got some from the traders today. Did you see?” He nodded. “Why don’t you tuck yourself into bed, and I’ll get you a cup to send you off to sleep. Would you like that?”_

_He dropped to his knees and then to his side; the mattress bounced beneath him. He couldn’t wiggle under the blankets fast enough. Aryll laughed, kissed his forehead, and promised to return before he could blink. She couldn’t quite hold to that promise--he counted twelve blinks--but she did return quick enough. She snuggled into the bed beside him to read aloud from his favorite book, and he sipped his milk to the sound of her voice until his eyes dropped shut._

#

The hours passed. Rabbits reemerged from their tunnels and resumed their activities, keeping a wary eye on the sleeping Hylian at the edge of their warren. The occasional word from the Hylian’s lips checked them each time, but they scattered again only when a red missile bound into the midst of them. The fox missed its initial kill and took a nearby dead rabbit with lopsided ears as consolation. 

Epona scattered the rabbits again an hour after they dared to resurface. She walked up to Link and bowed her head down to nuzzle his cheek. Link buried his face deeper into the crook of an arm. Epona snorted. 

The sound jolted Link awake. He raised himself up onto an elbow and looked around with a wide gaze. He recognized Epona and the trees after a quick, frightened sweep of his eyes. It was a little different, however; stained with the tint of twilight.

The rabbit was gone, and already it was difficult to see the scattered arrows in the deepening shadows of the copse. Link gathered all that he could find, replacing whole and broken arrows in his quiver alike. The damage ranged from minor fletching irregularity to shattered shafts. Link added arrow repair to his list that already included hunting for meat to dry and pelts to trade, and stopping by a ruin in hopes of finding a high-value relic to barter with. So much to do in the next few days, and Link wanted none of it. He walked out of the copse with a light stomach and a heavy mind. Epona trailed him back to camp. 

The stars were nearly all out when Link ducked into his tent. He came back out with a small blue stone in his hand. The night air smelled of coming rain. Clouds were covering up the stars when Link sat down on the grass and held the stone in his cupped hands. He blew a gentle breath across the stone, and a soft light flickered to life within it. The light cast a blue glow over his hands and forearms, revealing the shake in them. 

“Link?” the stone spoke in a woman’s voice. “You hardly ever call on me. What’s wrong? Do you need something? Are you hurt?”

What was he doing? Link’s fingers clenched around the stone, and its irregular edges dug into his palms. He could toss it. He had a good arm. There was a small pond within sight. He bet he could make it. 

“Link?” the voice pressed with a little more urgency. “Come on, it’s me--Impa. You know you can talk to me. But I can’t help you if you don’t speak up. Being Sheikan doesn’t make me a mind reader.”

Link blinked, and a drop of water fell on the stone. It wasn’t rain. The stone’s light fluctuated, seeming to curve away before returning to its usual strength. 

“Link?” There was a soothing quality to Impa’s voice now. “Is it about your tribe again? Come on, don’t cry. Remember what Rusl and I told you? Keep reminding yourself that it will get better. You have to keep looking on the brighter side. There’s no reason for you to feel so guilty all the time for what happened. You were young and you didn’t know better. Don’t let this sadness dictate your life, okay? Link? _Bleufarwe,_ are you listening?”

Link had bowed his head over his lap. The stone’s words hummed against his forehead. How he longed to believe Impa’s words would turn out to be true.

“It will be easier to bear one day,” Impa continued. “I promise. The Royal Family once betrayed the Sheikah clan; did I ever tell you that? It’s why there’s a tear under the eye on our crest. But time passed and we were able to move past our grief. We serve them faithfully once more as if nothing happened. We’re wiser now, however. Someday you will be wiser too for your grief.”

Link didn’t think so. How could something so heavy ever be of help to him? It was only a hindrance. He closed his eyes and released a shaky breath that was nearly a sob.

“I heard you finally defeated that monster,” Impa picked up with clear admiration. “A trader arrived to town this evening with the news. Word of the _Bleufarwe’s_ feats travel fast through Hyrule. Do you want to tell me about it?” A pause. “You’re not going to talk to me, Link?” Link offered no answer. “Okay… I have some time. Princess Zelda is practicing in the music room. Let me tell you about these new recruits I’m supposed to be training. They’re so green they make the castle gardens look grey. I almost wish it was you underfoot again instead, _Bleufarwe._ ” There was a small laugh. “But not quite.”

It was enough to lift Link’s head. He wiped his eyes, stretched out on his side against the grass, and placed the stone on the ground so that its light cast over his face. He felt Epona drop down at his back. He knew she wouldn’t lie there for long, but for the moment it was good to feel her weight behind him and Impa’s voice in his ears. 

“So I’m taking them on a tour of the barracks when this one _novitius_ has the balls to question the dawn wakeup call…”

#

_Impa was making something. It smelled good. Sweet. He pushed close to her side to drop his chin on the tabletop. There was flour spread across the wood; it swirled in the wake of his breaths. Above his head, one of Impa’s elbows worked back and forth as her hands kneaded a ball of dough._

_“Found me again, Link?” Impa asked, smiling. “I don’t know how I get anything down with you underfoot all the time.”_

_He cast his eyes around the table. Not far away, the finished product rested on a wooden cooling rack. Their frosted shapes beckoned his hand._

_“No,_ kilthei, _” Impa said, deterring his reaching hand with a gentle, floury tap. “We don’t take. We ask.”_

_But he didn’t want to ask. He dropped his chin and scuffed his feet._

_“’May I please have a cookie?’” Impa prompted him. His brow furrowed, and she sighed. “You’re a stubborn one, Link.”_

_He worked his hands into his too-large blue tunic, twisting the blue top into curls around his fingers. He knew what ‘stubborn’ meant. It wasn’t about being stubborn. Impa had to know that. She knew… She knew he had…_

_Impa sighed again, and the thump of the dough ball ceased for a moment. A frosted rabbit appeared before his eyes. “Cookie._ Koek," _she said, saying the word in both Hylian and Sheikan._

_He grasped for the rabbit. It was raised out of reach before his fingers could close around it._

_“You will talk to me, if to no one else,” Impa said._

_It wasn’t a difficult lesson to learn. Even so, he crossed his arms and dropped his head. Impa resumed her work. After a while, he pushed his head up to the table again to watch her first flatten the dough and then cut out shapes from it. These were placed in lines across a metal sheet. When the sheet was full, Impa picked it up and turned around towards the oven. She nearly tripped over him along the way._

_“_ Gona, gona, kilthei! _” Impa shooed him with a quick hand. “I must get this done before Princess Zelda’s riding lesson.”_

 _Of course he didn’t leave. His head pushed up under Impa’s arm once more when she returned to the table. He eyed the rabbits, stars, and moons that lay cooling. “_ Koek, _” he murmured out of the blue. He ducked his head when she looked down at him._

_Impa sighed a third time. She did that a lot around him. “It’s a start.”_

_The rabbit was lowered into his hands. He nibbled at it, starting at the ears first, relishing each hint of sweetness on his reluctant tongue._

##########  
 **Translations:**

 _Bleufarwe:_ A term of endearment of sorts, Impa uses this often when speaking of or to Link. The literal Sheikan translation is "Blue Arrow".

 _novitius:_ Sheikan for "novice".

 _kilthei:_ Sheikan for "child". Often used as a term of endearment.

 _koek:_ Translated in-text, this is Sheikan for "cookie".

 _"Gona, gona, kilthei!":_ [Sheikan] "Go, go, child!"


	3. Gifted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter our hero has a few visitors, and he finally opens his mouth. An offer is once more put forth as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who gave the first two chapters a shot. I hope you continue reading. Questions, comments, and constructive criticism from both AO3 users and anons are always appreciated. Please enjoy, thank you.
> 
> Note: There are no translations needed in this chapter.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Gifted

The morning birdsong dragged Link out of sleep, tugging at his ears until he had no choice but to heed. The tweets and chirrups forced his eyes open onto a field bright with early sunlight. Epona was in view, grazing a rough dozen yards away. Her tail swished to keep flies away from her poultice. 

Link sat up with a wince. It had rained last night, as he thought it would. His body ached deep in the bones from it, and his hair and clothes were damp. The blue stone too was wet, and its light was dormant. When Link thought back on the previous night, he couldn’t recall when he had fallen asleep listening to it. There were no nightmares to remember, either. That was a welcomed change.

The sun had burned further threats of rain from the sky. Link got to his feet and extended his arms up, ignoring the protest in his sore bones for the better feeling of stretching muscles. He pocketed the blue stone before he walked to where Epona was grazing. She nickered a greeting and snorted gnats away from her nose. 

Link snorted too. 

The mare’s ears swiveled forward and she raised her head. She repeated her hoarser snort.

Link spread his legs and hunched, bracing his hands on his damp knees. He furrowed his brow in mock challenge.

Epona pawed at the ground and lowered her head once more. She tossed her mane and neighed. 

Link tossed his hair as well. It was already loose from its tie, and now the locks slipped down around his face. He hastened to fasten it back after he straightened out of his hunch. He relaxed his stance and bowed to Epona.

Epona knelt on one front leg, stretched out the other, and dropped her nose to the ground. She held the pose for a few seconds before rising. Link rewarded her with one of her favorite kinds of attention: an affectionate hand rub along the white stripe that ran down her nose. While he stroked Epona, he discovered he was feeling better. The dark cloud that had overtaken him yesterday was, for the moment, gone. He kissed Epona’s stripe between her brown eyes and left her to continue grazing. After relieving himself, he ducked into his tent for a change of clothes. 

Link had one set of clothes to spare. There were once two, but the _mashitako_ had set flame to one of them during Link’s second encounter with it. Link shuddered at the memory of the burns. Fortunately, there was a nearby fairy fountain at the time. An hour’s soak in the magic-saturated water had healed the raw skin over as if it was never burnt. 

After wiping the damp and grime from his skin (Add a proper bath in the river to the list, he reminded himself), Link slipped on the white undershirt and blue tunic that was once a staple for the men of the Regn Tribe. His hair was loosened and combed out before tucked away again in its tie, leaving out sidelocks--another remnant of the extinct people. The pants were nothing special; only functional tan slacks. Last of all was the black cloak. Link tied it on but kept the hood dropped. 

The boots on Link’s feet were his only pair. He took them into hand and carried them outside along with his damp clothes. It would all dry well enough in the sun. In the meantime, he could make a small meal from his waning rations, and then return to the copse in an attempt to retrieve more arrows. Taking stock of them and deciding which ones to repair would kill time while the clothes and boots dried.

Link ducked out of the tent and straightened up. His eyes went at once to Epona, as they always did. He took note of her wary posture--head up towards him and ears swiveled forward--and his stomach dropped. He put down his boots and clothes with care, and inched out to study the area around his tent.

He wasn’t expecting to see the four bomskits peppered over the immediate area around his camp. Bomskits were, for the most part, harmless, skittish monsters. They had squat, round bodies balanced between two twig-like legs. Their eyes were yellow and took up most of the sides of their heads, as they were best suited for finding night crawlers in the midst of the night. The color reminded Link of Ganondorf, and his lips tightened. He wanted to take his blade to all four monsters, but that would be unwise. When frightened, a bomskit fled the area, dropping small explosives in its wake as a defense. Such explosives so close to Link’s tent would send it up in flames. The fact that they were close enough when they usually avoided Hylians altogether didn’t improve Link’s mood. 

_Dark Harbinger. The Monster Bringer. Silent Ruin._

Link went back into his tent for a moment and came out again with one of his arrows. His shirt wasn’t the right sort of blue, but he knew from experience it would work. He tied one corner of the damp shirt to the arrow, straightened up, and waved it above his head in slow, sweeping circles. 

Kargarocs--a bird-type monster that was ubiquitous in Hyrule--were one of the bomskits’ few natural enemies. Their powerful beaks could crack open the bomskits’ hard carapaces for the softer meat inside, and they were quick enough to dive down and catch the speedy creatures. Link’s shirt looked nothing like a kargaroc, but to the poor daytime eyesight of the bomskits the similar color and movement was enough. It sent them skipping away without leaving any explosives behind that would alert their presence to the ‘kargaroc’. 

Link ceased his charade once the last bomskit had disappeared behind a distant hill. He untied his shirt and laid it and the rest of his clothes atop the tent’s pitched roof. The boots were propped against the tent’s sunny side, upside down. The grass and rougher underbrush of the copse would be no challenge to Link’s travel-hardened soles.

_“Hey! Onii-san!”_

Was that…? Link walked around his tent and cast his eyes out across the field. He spied a small, horse-drawn cart heading towards his camp along one of the dirt roads that crossed Hyrule Field. Link slumped on his feet. He had a bad feeling half of the day’s good light was about to be wasted.

“Found you!” Sakura announced once the cart had stopped by Link’s camp. She was with Kukiel in the back of the cart. An older woman around Link’s age was in the seat. She smiled at him when he looked at her. Unlike Sakura’s and Kukiel’s black hair, the older woman had deep red locks. Her eyes were wider as well, and her manner of dress was closer to the styles worn in Castle Town.

The girls scrambled out of the cart, hurried to bow before Link, and greeted together, “Good morning, Onii-san.” Link returned their bow.

“So you’re the infamous Blue Arrow, huh?” the woman called to Link. She dropped down from the cart’s seat and stroked her horse’s side. Her eyes marked Link with approval.

“Onii-san, this is Malon, the horse doctor I told you about yesterday,” Kukiel explained. 

Malon walked up to Link and offered a hand. After some reluctance he took it, and they shook. “Nice grip,” Malon remarked. She cast raised eyebrows at the girls, prompting giggles.

Link could have said the same for her, but as usual he kept his lips closed. 

“The girls wouldn’t leave me alone,” Malon picked up. “They kept talking about you and your horse as if you were the Goddesses incarnate. And, well… I must admit I’ve wanted to meet you as well.” She pointed over her shoulder at Epona. “May I?”

If it was for anything but Epona’s sake, Link would have turned his visitors away and moved on. Instead, he led the way to where his horse stood, regarding the small group. The mare danced on skittish hooves when she caught Malon’s strange scent, but Link calmed her with a reassuring hand and clicks of his tongue. The girls’ presence helped. Epona remembered them, and they gave her sugar cubes they had brought from the village for her. After that, there was no question about Malon drawing near enough to inspect the mare’s wound.

“Beautiful,” Malon remarked while running a hand along Epona’s left side. Link, on the opposite side, watched her carefully over the mare’s broad back. “Smart too, I bet--for a horse, anyway. They’re not the brightest of creatures, but from what Sakura and Kukiel told me it sounds like she has some specialized training. Right?” She caught Link’s eyes. He nodded. “How do you do it? Touch? Whistles and clicks?” Link nodded at both. “Of course,” Malon said, smiling. “You really take strong and silent to the next bar, huh?”

Link frowned and looked away. This appeared to amuse Malon, as she laughed. “Don’t take everything so seriously,” she told him. “Anyway… This?” She began to peel off Epona’s poultice, taking her time as the mud had dried to the hide. “It’s a fair job--I mean, for someone who isn’t a horse doctor, it’s pretty good. But for burns like this, it would be better to use the red Deku berry. Do you know of it?” Link nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty common so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding it. Mash some up and mix in some of the bush’s shredded leaves to give it a good consistency. You’ll want about a one berry to two leaves ratio. Just be careful she doesn’t try to lick it off. The Deku berry tastes sweet to horses, but it won’t be pretty when it comes out the other end.”

The girls overheard this and laughed. Even Link smiled a bit.

“Definitely not pretty,” Malon reiterated, smiling too. “Oh, but…” She pulled the rest of the poultice off and frowned. “You’ll need to change it more than once a day.” Malon noticed Link was suddenly interested in looking anywhere but directly at her. She noted the shadows under his bloodstained eyes and she murmured, out of the girls’ earshot, “Bad night?”

Link’s brow furrowed. He pulled his hood up and turned away.

Malon didn’t press him. She called to Kukiel and told her to get the medical bag from the cart. “And Sakura, you get the picnic basket,” she added. Both girls nodded and rushed off. “I hope you’re hungry,” Malon said, smiling, when she saw Link studying her from within his hood. “The girls insisted on thanking you.”

Link shook his head vigorously. _Not a good idea,_ his mind warned him. He shouldn’t be getting cozy with anyone. 

Malon frowned at him. “They wanted to do this for you. Are you really going to turn them down?”  
Link shifted on his feet and huffed. “Silence speaks consent,” Malon said. She pretended not to see Link’s glare. “Hey, do you want me to take a look at that for you, too? We’re far away from the nearest fairy fountain, right?”

Link didn’t understand the question until Malon pointed at the cut on his cheek. He raised a hand to it. Somehow--perhaps during the rains the night before--the bandage had come off. His fingers traced the rough, dried edges of the cut while Malon accepted her medical bag from Kukiel. She made quick work of the new poultice, all the while promising to leave Link extra bandages and assuring him it wouldn’t take long for Epona’s burn to heal.

“Right then. Hood down if you would, Mr. Blue Arrow.”

Link was surprised to find Malon in front of him without warning, and he didn’t move fast enough to step out of reach. Her hands dropped his hood for him. They grazed past his sidelocks in the act and he jerked his head back, taking a step away.

Malon dropped her hands to her hips. “I can see where your horse gets her skittishness from. Stand still, would you?” She reached up again, this time with only one hand. Link bore the touch of her fingers with a stiff jaw. “It needs to be cleaned,” Malon said. “Other than that, it looks fine. I say to leave it open to the air unless you’re going to be doing some dirty work. It may leave a scar, but if you’re worried about that you can make the trek to a fairy fountain.”

Malon knelt down by her medical bag to rummage through the jars and packages within. Above her, Link flexed his jaw and frowned. “Here we are,” Malon announced. She stood up with a scrap of gauze and a vial of clear liquid. She dampened a corner of the gauze with the liquid and raised it to Link’s wound. He was expecting it to sting, so the cool touch was another surprise. Malon worked with expert swiftness to clean the cut’s length. 

“The picnic is ready!” Sakura and Kukiel called. They had spread a blanket on the grass and put out rice, a pot of miso soup, and grilled fish, along with bread, cheese, cold sausages, and apples. There was also a jug of water and a bottle of milk.

Malon laughed at Link’s face when he saw the conflicting spread. “We have a bit of a culture clash, but that just means more for everyone. I still can’t get used to fish for breakfast, though, even after living in Izumi Village for over a year.” 

Malon’s mare was freed from the cart so that she could share a bag of feed and spare apples with Epona. Link admired Epona for how easily she got along with another of her kind. If anything, she appeared to enjoy the company, whereas he had to have Kukiel and Sakura take one of his hands each and pull him to the picnic blanket. Link stayed away from the milk and fish, but took his fill of the rest after much cajoling on all three ladies’ parts. He frequently caught them staring at him as he ate, as if he was a rare creature on display.

“Goddesses, this is nice,” Malon remarked after the bulk of the picnic was over. She leaned back on braced hands, tossed her long hair out of her eyes, and gazed out across the field. Link watched her feet tap to an unknown beat against the blanket. Sakura and Kukiel, finished with their breakfast, had run off to chase each other across the grass. 

“It must be great, seeing this every day,” Malon continued. She craned her head back to look up at Link, who sat a little back and to her right. He shrugged a shoulder and cut another piece from the apple in his hand. 

“Nothing?” Malon pressed when Link only chewed and swallowed. “Not even a ‘yes’? _Can_ you talk? I mean, is it a birth defect or an accident or something? I promise not to tell.” She put a finger to her lips, winked, and laughed. Link didn’t return the mirth. “Oh, come on!” Malon pushed at his folded knee. He flinched and frowned down at her. “Sorry. I just want you to loosen up a little. You’re too tense, and that’s unhealthy. Trust me, I know. I’m a doctor. Of sorts.” She smiled.

Link relaxed his leg, sighed, and cast his eyes out over the view. _You’re going to regret all this later._ Yes, probably, but she wasn’t going to leave him alone unless he satisfied some of her curiosity. “I talk,” he said. The words came out stiff on his disinclined tongue. 

“Oh?” Malon rolled over onto her stomach and looked up at Link with her chin cupped in her hands. Link’s shoulders slumped. Now he had done it. “What’s your mare’s name?”

To give himself time, Link popped another slice of apple into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Epona.”

“You mean like the spirit in charge of the Goddesses’ horses?” Malon guessed, referring to the legendary fertility spirit known throughout Hyrule. Link nodded. “And you? What’s your name? Your _real_ name?”

Link’s knife slipped against the slick flesh of the apple; he moved his finger away just in time. He cast Malon a small, annoyed look and answered, “Blue Arrow.”

Malon dropped her head to the blanket with an exasperated sigh. “Come on,” she pleaded, lifting her head up again and pushing hair out of her eyes. “I brought you breakfast, I helped your horse… Throw me a bone here.”

Link turned his apple and cut a new piece. He worked the knife slowly while he mulled over the possibility of lying. “Link,” he answered after much dithering. 

“Link,” Malon repeated, trying the name out. A slow smile came to her lips. “I like it. So, _Link,_ tell me something about yourself. And try to go for more than one or two words at a time. I’m not looking for your life story,” Malon rushed to add when she saw Link’s eyes harden. “I just want to know something about you that others don’t.”

“You already do,” Link reminded her.

Malon clapped her hands twice. “Three words that time. Now we’re getting somewhere,” she remarked. “How do you spend your days when you’re not chasing down rampaging monsters?”

“I’m always chasing down rampaging monsters,” Link replied.

Malon covered her mouth with her hands for a brief moment before she rolled over onto her back and broke into hearty laughs. “A whole sentence!” she cried around her laughter. There _are_ Goddesses!” Malon dropped her hands to her stomach and sighed. “You’re not chasing monsters right now,” she pointed out, and she cocked her head back to catch Link’s eye. “You should take a day off like this more often.”

Link didn’t bother to tell Malon this wasn’t a day off. He had every plan to set off to the copse for his arrows after the girls left, and get in some hunting and gathering before the sun set.

Malon saw some of this in Link’s eyes and she sighed. “Well, try to anyway. You deserve it for all that you do for everyone in Hyrule. A few burned crops or trees are nothing compared to the lives that could be lost if you weren’t around.” 

Link’s newest piece of apple prematurely slipped down his throat. He sucked in a sharp breath and fell to coughing. Malon hurried to her knees and slapped him on the back a few times until the apple piece went down. Link grimaced when he felt the pain of it move though his chest. He blinked tears from his eyes and shook his head. 

“Is Onii-san okay?” Sakura asked. She and Kukiel stood not far from the edge of the blanket, having heard Link’s difficulties and come rushing over. 

“He’s fine,” Malon assured them. Link grew taciturn again with the girls so close. He gently pushed Malon back and took a few deep swigs of water from his cup.

“Onii-san, you should take your time and chew each bite a hundred times,” Sakura instructed.

“Yeah, Onii-san, the food isn’t going anywhere,” Kukiel added, almost scolding.

“Girls,” Malon spoke up with a smile at them. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to give to our hero here?”

The girls’ faces lit up. “Oh!” they gasped together, and they ran off to the cart.

“Hurry now,” Malon said to Link. “You have about twenty seconds of breathing room before they’re all over you again.” 

Link took in breath after breath, filling his lungs a little deeper each time. He wiped tears from his eyes and relaxed with a sigh. Malon watched him carefully, as if she expected him to drop dead at any moment. “Was it something I said?” she asked him.

Link was spared having to answer. Kukiel and Sakura had returned to the blanket, carrying a small, covered basket between their hands. They dropped the basket in front of Link’s crossed legs, took up seats on either side of him, and pressed against his sides. Link sighed while Malon laughed silently into her hands.

The fabric hiding the basket’s contents was folded back with much ceremony, with Kukiel and Sakura leaning forward to take a corner each. “Malon helped us, Onii-san,” Kukiel explained as she dug into the basket. “She said you might need some of this stuff. Look! We got you soap because she told us you probably get grungy traveling around Hyrule all the time.”

Link shot Malon a look. She unexpectedly became very interested in helping herself to more rice.

“Onii-san, Onii-san, look!” Sakura pulled Link’s attention back, and he politely watched her and Kukiel go through all of the basket’s contents. There were nuts, dried fruits, and jerky for him, and sugar cubes for Epona. A small, jangling bag turned out to be a dozen arrowheads, and there was a bundle of oilcloth. 

“It’s to keep all your stuff dry!” Kukiel explained with bright eyes. “That was my idea.”

“Yeah, well this was my idea!” Sakura piped up. She retrieved a velvet bag from the bottom of the basket and handed it to Link. He opened it and pulled out a small instrument. It had a shape to it that suggested a goose.

“It’s an ocarina!” Sakura mimed playing the instrument by moving her fingers along imaginary holes and blowing into an invisible neck. “I thought Epona might like it.”

Link frowned as he turned the instrument before his eyes. He put the neck in his mouth and blew experimentally. The sound was pleasing enough to the ear. He smiled at both girls and nodded in thanks.

“My turn!” Malon announced. She bowed over Kukiel’s lap and snatched up the last thing in the basket. Her hair slipped by Link’s folded knees when she straightened up to hand him the object. He flinched before taking it. “I took inspiration from the gifts you gave the girls yesterday. There’s a rock artisan in the village who owed me a favor, so...” She gestured to the gift.

It was a necklace much like the ones Kukiel and Sakura proudly wore on display. Instead of a normal arrowhead, however, it was howlite--a stone Link recognized from his bartering of relics. The stone was stained a vivid blue that matched his shirt. He cast Malon a look of question at the lavish gift.

“I told you, it was a favor he owed me,” Malon explained with a shrug. “His horse broke a leg, and I helped him through putting the poor thing down. What sort of favor could I ever need of a rock artisan? He’s happy to know he’s repaid his debt, and you get something to remember us all by, so it’s a win-win. Are you going to refuse it?” She raised her eyebrows at him in challenge. 

Link shook his head and dutifully tied on the necklace. There was a nice weight to it against his chest. He found himself liking it and the other gifts more than he knew was wise. But the girls’ faces… They were all smiles. Malon, too, looked pleased. Despite what Ganondorf had said yesterday, there were some people in Hyrule who appreciated Link. He only wished it was the rule rather than the exception.

Malon clapped her hands. “All right, girls, I think it’s time we said goodbye. I’m sure Mr. Blue Arrow has a full day ahead of him, and he can’t start until we’re out of his hair, as pretty as it is.” Kukiel and Sakura giggled when Link self-consciously fingered a sidelock.

The picnic spread was tidied up and packed away while Link put his gifts inside his tent so as to return the basket to Kukiel and Sakura. He next whistled to Epona when the girls asked if they could have one last goodbye. Malon got in her share of petting as well. Afterwards, her mare was hooked up to the cart again, and the girls clambered into the back. “Goodbye, Onii-san!” they called together, as if the first five times weren’t enough, while Malon climbed up into the cart’s seat.

Link touched the top of Epona’s nose, which was his signal for her to pay attention to him. When he bowed to the cart, she dropped into her own bow. Kukiel and Sakura were beside themselves in delight. 

“You’re welcome,” Malon said to Link and Epona both. “See you later.” She waved goodbye and snapped the reins. Her horse began to lead the cart back onto the road. Kukiel and Sakura waved and called out goodbyes until they fell behind a scattering of boulders.

Once the cart was out of sight, Link sat down on the ground where he stood. The picnic was the longest interaction he had passed with anyone in the last year, and it had left him tense and mentally strained. He had to consciously relax his shoulders and take a few minutes to collect himself. While he recuperated, his eyes wandered the field and fell upon the group of trees in his line of sight.

#

Beneath the trees of the copse, the air still maintained the early morning cool that was already gone from the larger, sunnier Hyrule Field. Link followed a game trail to his familiar tree, and from there he began the hunt for his arrows. Eight of them were unaccounted for, by his count. The quiver at his lower back sounded empty without them, even with the broken arrow pieces knocking around in it. As he searched, he plucked occasionally at the string of the bow around his chest. He had brought both it and his short blade with him this time. Just in case.

There was an arrow stuck roughly eight feet up the trunk of Link’s hunting tree. He sprinted at the tree and ran three steps up the trunk to snag the arrow. It came out unbroken at the cost of a few scraped toes. Looking up at the tree, Link spied a small notch a foot and a half below the higher one. There was a small, dark brown spot of dried blood at the edge.

_You’re good with a bow, I’ll give you that._

Link found the spot where he had struck down his lost meal. There was blood there too. He covered it up with a foot as he took a ready stance and drew his bow. Pulling back the bowstring felt like second nature, and his aim was steady. The arrow sped through the air, almost too fast to see, to embed its point within the lower notch. 

Link pulled out one of the few good arrows left in his quiver. The sacrifice of another was worth seeing the first arrow split by the second. He decided to leave both of them there until they rotted away.

“Good, good,” complimented a familiar voice. Link closed his eyes. “I knew I was right in reconsidering.”

Link spun, notching an arrow and letting it fly as soon as Ganondorf’s shoulder was aligned. The Gerudo caught the speeding arrow as if it was nothing more than a dandelion fluff.

“So it takes a pretty face to get a word out of you, huh?” Ganondorf asked. “Does that mean mine wasn’t pretty enough?” He walked towards the struck tree. When he passed Link, he lobbed the arrow to the Hylian; Link scrambled to catch it. 

“Few of my girls can split their arrows,” Ganondorf remarked while he studied Link’s handiwork. “And like I said yesterday, none of them can strike my earring. But that isn’t because of a lack of skill. Do you know why they can’t?” He turned to Link for the answer. Link shrugged. “It’s because they respect and fear me enough to miss every time. You, however, have no master except your guilt. But that can be changed.” Ganondorf smiled and spread his hands. “I rescind my rescinding of my offer. You would make a fine teacher to my cavalry. What do you say?”

Link frowned and shook his head in disbelief. The other arrows would have to be a loss. He turned to leave the copse.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if everyone in Hyrule respected you like I do?” Ganondorf called after him. “If they saw you as you want them to see you?” Link’s steps slowed to a stop. “No more hiding and ducking, no more risking your neck and purse whenever you enter a town, no more sleeping in the rain… If you’re under my protection, I can give you all that and more.”

 _Ignore it,_ Link’s mind told him. He was all too familiar with sly whispers and attractive promises. He closed his eyes against the words. He opened them again when he felt his quiver moving against him. Link looked down to see the arrows inside it floating out as a trail of broken wood, feathers, and stone. Other arrows darted into view from the shadows of the copse. They joined their fellows in a small sphere of whirling pieces between Link and Ganondorf. 

“We can be of use to one another,” Ganondorf said. His right hand was stretched out, palm up. His fingers danced as if he was tickling the air, and his eyes were focused on the whirling arrows. They were fusing together; becoming whole again. “Where do you get the feathers from?” he asked Link while his sorcery worked. “The pattern of the fletching looks familiar, but I can’t quite remember where I’ve seen it.” 

Link dropped his bow’s bottom tip to the ground and traced the curve of its upper limb. At this point, silence would be a discourtesy, and likely a danger. “Moss-tipped terns.”

Ganondorf raised his eyebrows at Link. “You travel to the coast just for feathers?”

Link shook his head. “I’ve never been. I get the feathers from merchants in Castle Town. I like the coloration, and they fly well.”

“You don’t get a fair deal given your reputation, I bet,” Ganondorf tacked on, smirking. Link didn’t answer. “I’ve been to the sea a few times. Magnificent. Makes even someone like me feel small.” He lowered his hand, and the arrows filed back into the Hylian’s quiver. Link looked down to watch them nestle together with soft whisperings. Not a single quill was out of place.

“If you ever want to go to the coast,” Ganondorf said, drawing Link’s attention again, “just find me. As a Gerudo king, I have diplomatic immunity here in Hyrule. I can get you through the checkpoints along the way without any hassle. That’s the reason why you don’t go, isn’t it?” Again, Link didn’t answer. “You know, you don’t hide as much behind your silence as you think you do.”

Link frowned. “How would I find you?” he asked. “In the slight chance I wanted to,” he added, a little too late.

Ganondorf waved a hand in a vague gesture. “If you want to find me, I’ll find you.” He turned to leave the copse. “And think on my other offer as well,” he added as he vanished into the shadows.


	4. In Deep Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows Link as he takes a bit of leisure time, gets into a bit of trouble-making, and has a reunion with the two closest people in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A great big thank you to everyone who is reading this fanfiction. I truly appreciate every hit and kudos. 
> 
> **Note:** Sheikan is spoken in this chapter by both Link and Impa. While the words are understandable in the chapter's context, translations (and some small tidbits on why they're used) are available at the bottom of the chapter.
> 
> Questions, comments, and constructive criticism from both AO3 users and anons are always welcomed. Please enjoy, thank you.
> 
>  **Additionally,** I've opened a small beta-reading service. Please see my bio for more information.

# -Blue Arrow-

### In Deep Water

The unexpected boon of gifts from Link’s admirers meant that, if he wanted to, he could take his time hunting and gathering before going to the market in Castle Town. If he wanted to. He wasn’t sure if he did want to, however. He could put off a whole day; it was possible now. Yet what would he do with the hours? 

These thoughts tumbled over and over in Link’s head as he broke down his camp the next morning. He had set up near the base of a small hill and slept under the stars, and the return to some sort of normalcy in his routine had worked as a balm. He and Epona were both rested and cheerful. The mare played about while Link worked; cavorting and kicking her hooves into the air with small squeals. She attempted to engage Link more than once by trotting up and biting gently at his sleeve, only to gallop away when he turned to grab her. 

At these times, it was hard for Link to remember that Epona was once wholly wild. He had come across her not long after he decided to make a life outside Hyrule Castle. She was abandoned by her herd due to a wolfos bite on her back leg that had weakened her. The same pack that attacked her was closing in for the kill when Link rushed them with his sword and shield. The wolfos had him outnumbered four to one, but he killed the small pack’s leader and broke their morale. The survivors had scattered, and he was left with a mare to doctor. It was through his care that Epona grew to trust him, and he learned how to train her. Now she never left his side, even though her old herd occasionally passed by. 

Link, crouched by his saddlebags, eyed the faint scarring on Epona’s hind leg that had started everything between them. His fingers worked idly at the straps of one of the bags while he considered what he should do to fill the day. Something in the bag trembled, and he heard a voice calling his name from within it.

“There’s my favorite troublemaker,” Impa said as a way of greeting when Link dug out the blue stone. “Are you feeling better than you were two nights ago?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I just wanted to get it touch with you. The Royal Family is making its yearly tour of the villages and trade posts throughout Hyrule. Maybe we can meet and catch up somewhere along the route, hmmm? We shouldn’t be too hard to miss.” She added, abruptly solemn, “I’m worried about you. I want to see you with my own eyes, and soon. It’s been nearly a year since we last talked face-to-face.” Impa’s voice resumed the chipper tone she had opened with. “So, what are you planning to do today? Come on, tell me or I’ll keep bugging you until you do.”

Link fondled the howlite arrowhead hanging from his neck. He looked out across the field and watched Epona tear through a bed of wildflowers, kicking up dust, butterflies, and bumblebees in her wake. “I’m taking a day off.”

There was a noted pause on Impa’s side of the conversation. Link wasn’t sure if the answer itself had surprised her more, or the fact that he had answered at all. When Impa resumed speaking, it was with honest, brimming enthusiasm. “Well good!” she nearly exclaimed. “Goddesses know you need it. What do you plan to do?”

Link shrugged. “I’ll play it by ear.”

“Just be careful,” Impa added. The motherly tone she had always used around him when he was younger crept into her voice. It reminded Link of his childhood in Hyrule Castle. He last left those white walls five years ago. He barely remembered entering them, however. There was fear and ruin, followed by blackness, before the first memory of Impa’s concerned face hovering over him in the rainy castle gardens.

Link forced gibe into his voice. “I’m always careful.”

“Link…”

“I think I saw another one of those weird monsters in the last ruin I visited. Maybe I’ll go wake it up for fun.”

“You’re going to invite an ill fate with that kind of talk,” Impa scolded.

“Oh, so you don’t want me to talk after all?”

 _“Bleufarwe,_ don’t put words in my mouth,” Impa warned. 

“I have to go, Impa. There’s a mob of stalfos here that wants to have a word with me.”

With an exasperated sound, Impa cut off her side of the conversation. The blue stone went dark, and Link tucked it away with a self-satisfied smile on his lips. It was rare when he dared to rile Impa up, but he knew the Sheikah would rather have him tease her than stay silent. Perhaps she wouldn’t worry about him for a while now.

The saddlebags were nearly packed up. Link took a moment to dive a hand into one and pull out the ocarina he had received from Sakura and Kukiel. There were seven holes in the front, and a thumb hole in the back. It didn’t take him long to figure out how to produce high and low notes by covering the holes. Once he felt he had a handle on it, he experimented by playing Epona’s favorite three-note song.

The mare lifted her head at the sound. When Link repeated it, she broke into a gallop towards him. She nearly scattered the saddlebags when she slid to a stop in front of him. Her head bowed down and she sniffed at the ocarina. Link played the three notes once more, this time against Epona’s nose. The mare’s response was to snort in his face. 

Link jumped to his feet, gasping. He fixed a snot-covered glare on Epona. The mare neighed and galloped away. _First stop is the river,_ Link decided.

#

Zora River wound through much of Hyrule, offering miles of bank that provided prime fishing spots and access to fresh water. It was governed by the Zora race, an amphibious people who were more than willing to share the water source when it came to their Hylian allies. Link had a favorite place along the river where the water cut through a shallow valley lined on both sides by large, time-smoothed stones. With the valley’s high walls and the sun-bleached rocks, it wasn’t as scenic as other areas along the river. Nevertheless, it had a gentle shoal that allowed easy access, and it was never populated. Beyond the shoal, where the water was at waist height, the riverbed dropped off into a deep swimming hole. It was one of several such holes along the river created by the Zoras a countless age ago, and it extended to a considerable depth. This was Link’s favorite feature of the spot.

Before swimming, however, there was the matter of the days-old sweat and grime to take care of. Link stripped, walked into the river, and worked his new soap over his body and into his hair. The suds slipped past him to sail along with the river’s flow, which was steady but languid at this point of its length. Epona stood up to her knees in the water, higher up on the shoal. She wasn’t fond of bathing, preferring instead to take dust baths in Hyrule Field, or submit to a soothing brush. Yet her mane was matted, and Link took some time to comb it out with his fingers, working water into the worst knots to slicken and untangle them.

“Pretty horse,” Link complimented once he was finished. “Epona, are you a pretty horse?” He touched Epona’s nose and nodded. She mimicked him by bobbing her head. “Yes, yes, yes,” Link said, smiling.

Link washed the last of the suds from his hair and pulled it back into a tie so that it couldn’t obscure his vision as he swam. Once done, he swam to the deeper swimming hole in the middle of the river. He glided across its width, moving just below the waterline. The water was warm this close to the surface. It enveloped him and reminded him of the last time he was home, more than twelve years ago. Grief rose up at this reminder, but the stronger tranquility of the moment kept it in check. 

Link broke the water’s surface, sucked in his deepest breath, and submerged himself again. He grabbed a rock as wide as his head and kicked off over the edge of the swimming hole. He descended at an easy pace with his arms stretched out below him with the rock between his hands, towing him down. With his eyes closed, he felt the water cool around him by each second. The light against his eyelids grew dimmer, and the pressure in his ears increased. 

The rock hit the bottom. Link let it tumble out of his hands as he flipped over to put his back to it. For several minutes he hung suspended at the bottom of the swimming hole, eyes closed, surrounded by darkness and depth. 

As a member of the Regn Tribe, a people that lived off a lake, Link was born in the water. He took his first strokes the instant his limbs cleared the womb. Thus he, and others before and after him, had acquired the practice of holding one’s breath in deep water for minutes on end--much longer than any other variant of Hylian. Link had developed the talent far over his twenty years of life. Yet after seven minutes at the bottom, he felt the familiar ache in his head and chest that warned him he was nearing his limit. He needed time to reach open air. Link opened his eyes. Far above him, he saw the glimmer of the sun on the Zora River’s surface. He lingered for a while, contemplating, before he kicked off against the bottom of the swimming hole and slowly ascended. 

After the gloom of the swimming hole, the brightness of Hyrule looked strange to Link’s eyes when he emerged into open air. He blinked a few times and shook his head to dislodge his clinging bangs from his brow. His lungs worked, stretching themselves out more and more with each fresh breath. He estimated he was submerged for about nine minutes, with the descent and ascent added into the seven odd minutes at the bottom. He wondered if he could push himself to ten or even eleven minutes total.

Link floated on the river’s surface, fighting the low current when necessary to stay at the edge of the swimming hole. Epona had left the shoal to stand atop one of the flatter rocks along the valley. Her nose was in the air. She looked perfect, free of tack and with her mane and tail swaying with the breeze. Link watched her until he flipped backwards into the swimming hole, grabbing a new rock along the way down.

Eight minutes at the bottom ticked away in Link’s head. He marked them by twitching a finger for each one until he had reached the middle digit of his right hand. There was a temptation to go on counting the seconds until he could no longer. No terrible memories from childhood found him down here, and it was so quiet.

 _It wouldn’t be so bad to die like this,_ Link thought, with the water’s weight embracing him and the murk making it seem like sleep. _Surely there are worse ways to go._ He opened his lips the smallest bit and imagined he could taste the water of home.

Link’s ascent was more reluctant this time. It was only his second dive of the morning, but it would have to be his last. He knew if he went down a third time this day, there would be even less will to return. Perhaps in a week or so he could go for twelve minutes. Until then, it was best for him to try and keep his head above water in all meanings of the phrase.

On the bank, Link fell upon a flat rock and allowed the sun to dry his skin and hair while he dozed. Loud splashes woke him, and he sat up to watch Epona crash through the shallow water of the shoal--not out of fear of something, but for the pure joy of the act. She joined Link on the bank after he had redressed, and they rode away from the river a short time later.

#

There was a little-used orchard two miles from Castle Town’s curtain walls. Once, it was the main source of Hylia apples to the town, yet now the tangier hill apples were more popular. The orchard was therefore allowed to grow as it wanted--at least until there was another swing in cultural tastes that brought Hylia apples back into popularity.

Link didn’t care much about one apple to the next. Hylia apples were as delicious as any other variety, and there was an entire unsupervised orchard from which to harvest them. Coming to the orchard, he slid out of his saddle and led Epona between the lines of trees. The low, fruit-loaded branches swayed in the breeze inches overhead. Link worked his way to his favorite tree--one of the tallest and strongest in the middle of the orchard. There, he turned Epona around and backed her towards the trunk. Once she was positioned, he walked around her and slapped a worn section of the apple tree’s bark, whistling a quick, shrill note as he did.

Epona kicked her back legs up. Her powerful hooves struck the worn section of bark, adding to the multitude of horseshoe marks there. The tree trembled, and a dozen apples fell down. For her help, Link allowed Epona her pick of the spoils before he collected the remaining apples and added all but one to his rations. The last he set into himself as he rode Epona out of the orchard, guiding her with his knees while he cut the apple apart with a knife.

A distant dust cloud caught Link’s attention when he and Epona cleared the orchard. He trailed its source to the white curtain walls and remembered Impa’s words from earlier in the morning. The Royal Family’s carriage then, along with a train of retainers and soldiers. Link went over his mental map of Hyrule and determined that the Royal Family would likely stay the night in the first decent-sized settlement along their tour route. That would be Kakariko Village; Impa’s hometown. A fitting place for a reunion with her.

But first… Link tossed aside his whittled apple and took up Epona’s reins. He nudged her into an easy trot, already planning out a small idea for a little fun. He would have to be quick, however. The Royal Family traveled with some of the best horsemen, and they were no slow-turning _mashitako._ He decided to get ahead of the train, hide his saddlebags and most of his gear, and backtrack with less weight to slow him down.

There was an open space scooped out of the border of a small wood two miles ahead and to the right of the train’s path. Link had used the area before for his camp, and he decided it would work just as well for later in the night. He led Epona to the space and relieved her of most of the saddlebags and gear. He kept his bomb arrow quiver on hand along with his bow, sword, and shield. The blade was for the possibility of his plan going awry. He kept his normal quiver with him as well, although he wouldn’t need it if he was lucky. Simply, there was no advantage to taking it off. He was more used to moving with it than without.

Epona shifted restlessly while Link hid away his belongings. No doubt she could sense he was up to something. Link hummed a little bit of her song and patted her nose. He felt some of her early-morning energy still thrumming in her muscles. That was good, as she was about to have the chance to let it all loose.

With the preparations complete, Link rode Epona to a point along the road half a mile ahead of the royal train. There, he turned her broadside in the middle of the path so that the head of the column would get the full profile. He pulled his hood up, braced his shield on his arm, and waited. 

The road curved, so Link heard the train long before the first line of mounted soldiers rounded into view. Their horses were pressed close together in an attempt to maintain a proper, uniform appearance. Link shook his head and thanked the good sense he had years ago when he decided to never join the Royal Army.

The soldier on the far right of the line recognized Link’s silhouette first. He called out a warning as he stopped his horse. The other soldiers to his right and behind him reacted, and soon they were stopping or turning their mounts in confusion. The train was quickly halted by the jumbled mess of horse, and Link had yet to move. He turned Epona forward and patted her broad neck. A sharp _tch_ from his tongue had her rearing in a dramatic fashion, complete with a thrilling whinny. She broke into a gallop almost as soon as her hooves touched ground.

The soldiers’ voices spiked with alarm. Link heard cries of _Blue Arrow!_ and _The Monster Bringer!_ as he sped past the first three rows of soldiers on their right side. The fourth sent an arrow at him that missed by several feet. Link ducked close to Epona when she banked into the turn in the road. He straightened up some and watched the blur of faces pass by on his right. 

The carriage was in the middle of the train. The retainers were walking or riding along with it. Already the windows were thrown open. Link saw Impa stick her head out and narrow her eyes. “Is this what you meant by playing it by ear?” she shouted at him.

Link smirked under his hood. A path through the frightened crowd opened up before him. He took it and buzzed the carriage, rattling its windows and door with his shield. The shield’s upper lip passed beneath Impa’s chin, yet she never flinched.

Link rode Epona to the end of the train and turned her around to make her way up the other side. He could see some resemblance of order was returning to the soldiers. Additionally, a trio of riders was now coming up behind him, having rounded the end of the train in his wake. Link turned back and noted the capes on the back of the soldiers’ armor. These were the ones he had to worry about.

“That’s right, _Bleufarwe,_ you’d better run!” Impa called after him, laughing, when he buzzed the other side of the carriage. “I trained those soldiers myself!” He words were underscored by the powerful hoof-falls of the elite soldiers’ mounts. 

Link dropped the reins, putting his trust in Epona in order to take out his bow and a bomb arrow. The fuse fizzled to life, and he notched the arrow and aimed up. He waited almost until the last moment before he released. The resulting bang and burst of fire feet above the retainers’ heads sent both mounts and people into a small panic. 

But not the three elite soldiers. Link _tsked_ and ducked low to Epona’s back. Now it was a matter of endurance. He didn’t have to run long, however, as he knew the soldiers would return to the train before they ventured too far away. They had a duty to protect the Royal Fa--

They weren’t turning back.

Link frowned. Of course. Any pupils of Impa’s would be just as persistent as her. He scanned the road ahead of him for inspiration for a new plan. His eyes fell on a cavern mouth to the right of the road, a short distance away. He looked back, judged the span between him and his pursuers, and deemed it adequate. His hand searched for and found the fletching of a second bomb arrow.

The explosion was large, but far enough to the side of the cavern’s mouth to avoid a cave-in. Link sped past it as the last of the smoke was cleared by the day’s breezes. As he passed, he heard the familiar squeaks and flaps of leathery wings that told him his guess about the cavern was right.

Disturbed from their sleep, the colony of keese flowed out of the cavern’s mouth as a shifting, screeching cloud. With Link already several paces away, the monsters fixed their ire on the three soldiers approaching them. The resulting screams and curses were music to Link’s ears. 

#

An hour later, the Royal Family’s train passed by Link’s campsite. The leading line of soldiers were once again the first to spot him, lounging by a fire pit he had dug while a skinned, gutted rabbit roasted on a spit above the crackling flames. He waved at them and smiled from within the shadows of his hood; his hand lingered on the hilt of his sword. The soldiers looked ready to approach and engage him when one of the elites, sporting several scratches on his exposed face, rode up and barked them back into order.

Impa hopped down from the carriage when it passed by. She was of light brown skin, perhaps in her fifties (Link had never had the courage to verify), with snow-white hair, red eyes, and a confident bearing. Link was testing the doneness of the rabbit when she took a seat on the grass opposite him. Epona, asleep on her feet nearby, stirred and walked over to the Sheikah. Impa greeted her with a pat and murmured affection while the soldiers marched on ten yards away.

“Put that hood down, _Bleufarwe,”_ Impa chided as Link licked grease from his fingertips. “Or else people will start to think you’re some sort of delinquent.”

Link didn’t comply until the last soldier was out of sight. By then, the rabbit was finished cooking. He dropped his hood and leaned over the remove the spit, only to have Impa walk around the fire and catch his chin in her hands.

“Link, what happened to your face?” she asked as she studied his healing cheek. Link tugged his head free and frowned. “Oh, now you’re not going to talk to me, hmmm? _Typikas.”_

“It’s nothing, Impa,” Link muttered. It took a lot of effort to keep the irritation out of his voice. He removed the spit and stuck its end into the ground to allow the rabbit to cool. 

“We’re headed to Kakariko,” Impa said after taking her seat again. Link brushed ash from his fingers. “Are you going to stop by? Princess Zelda was asking me that very question after your little stunt. She’s missed you just as much as I have.”

“Missed me?” Link jerked his head in the general direction of the gone train. “Sending your best after me--that’s missing me?”

“I knew they would be no match for you,” Impa soothed. “And I was right, wasn’t I? Although you could have saved yourself all that trouble if not for your _desider_ to be so theatrical.”

“It’s my day off,” Link offered as an excuse. He peeled a sliver of meat off of the rabbit and sucked it into his mouth. 

“You haven’t answered my question,” Impa reminded him.

Link groaned and dropped onto his back against the grass with eyes closed. “You know how much I hate going into town.”

Impa braced an elbow against a folded knee and dropped her chin into the upraised hand. “I also know your habits,” she countered. “I can see by the state of your saddlebags that you need supplies, so I’m sure you’ll be back to hunting by tomorrow for pelts to trade. And you’ll be risking your _hnec_ in a ruin to find something valuable. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Link pursed his lips. “You are not wrong in that you are not wrong about being wrong about being right.”

 _“Bleufarwe,_ that makes no sense. Don’t attempt to sound smarter than you are. It does nothing for you.”

“You are not wrong…” Link frowned as he worked over what he had said. What _had_ he said? “This is why I don’t talk,” he said, and he sat up. He snatched up the spit and buried his teeth into the roasted rabbit. Let Impa try to make conversation now. She hated poor manners.

Impa looked away, sighing, and waited for Link to finish being difficult. “Do you need anything?” she asked once he had put down the spit and wiped his mouth. “New clothes?” Link gave her a reluctant nod. “The same design, I suppose?” Impa asked next, sounding as if she hoped for a negative answer. She looked disappointed at Link’s nod. “When are you going to grow out of that tunic, Link?”

Link didn’t appreciate the insinuation behind the question. His face darkened, and he turned in place to face the road. 

“Anything else?” Impa pressed. “How’s Epona? Is her tack holding up?” Link’s jaw remained stiff. “Don’t be stubborn,” Impa warned him. “Answer me.”

“Fine, fine, everything’s fine,” Link snapped. He ran his hands up his face, pushing his bangs up.

“I’m sure,” Impa said as she eyed the contradiction in Link’s tense posture. “Well, I should be getting along to Kakariko.” She stood up, brushed dirt from her clothes, and gave Epona a pat between the ears as a goodbye. “You know where to find me should something else come to that _obstinare_ head of yours. We’re moving out of Kakariko tomorrow and hitting Ordon next. The villagers there have a gift to present to the king and queen.” Impa waited for a response. “Do I at least get a goodbye?” she pressed.

“Bye,” Link said through his hands. 

Impa laughed without humor. _“Bleufarwe,_ you’re pushing me, and you know what happens when you do.”

Link dropped his hands, sighed, and fixed his bangs. After rising to his feet, he bowed to Impa and said, _“Farawelta forvuwinda.”_

_“Eow blodung wid esegal hap,”_ Impa returned, also bowing. Her kiss to Link’s forehead when he straightened up was far less formal. The Hylian backed up and cursed in mortification. Impa laughed and left him to his embarrassment. 

#

Kakariko Village slumbered under a blanket of stars and the sleepy eye of a half-moon. It was just enough light to guide Link past the quiet houses and help him avoid the patrolling soldiers along the way. He headed for where the thickest congregation of the disciplined men and women was concentrated: Impa’s house, naturally. Not the easiest place to sneak into by far, even without an armored presence. The front and back doors were covered by two soldiers each, and a steady patrol of four more walked the perimeter. Added to that was an unknown number inside. Link cast his eyes up for an alternate route. His gaze landed on a high lookout tower that rose up beside a general store. He ducked back into the shadows and made his way to the tower’s base.

The tensest moment was when Link climbed the tower’s ladder. With each rung mounted, he expected a soldier to look up and recognize his silhouette against the half-moon. No alarm was raised, however, and Link was able to climb until he drew level with the general store’s rooftop. A quick side jump had his boots firmly on the shingles. He climbed the pitched roof and slid down its other side. Two more rooftops were traversed this way, and Link soon lowered himself from the lip of Impa’s roof. He climbed down the house’s rough brick face and slipped through an open window.

The room beyond turned out to be just the one he was looking for. Perhaps Zelda had left her lamp lit and the window open on purpose. Certainly there wasn’t as much surprise in her face as Link expected when she caught sight of him. She put the book she was reading aside, climbed out of her bed, and walked to him on tiptoes. She was Link’s age--although older by two months--with long goldenrod hair, and eyes as blue as his. When the princess spoke, she kept her voice low to avoid waking Impa, her nurse, who was asleep in a bed by the closed door.

“Hey,” Zelda greeted when Link took a seat on the windowsill. He smiled at her. “How are you doing? That was some act you pulled earlier today. Father couldn’t stop laughing, but Mother didn’t approve so much. And I’ve never seen Captain Viscen so angry, so I guess you got away without a scratch.”

Link nodded and looked over the room. He took in the soft lamplight and cozy furnishings with slight longing in his eyes. He snapped them back to Zelda when he felt her hand at his chest.

“What’s this?” Zelda held the howlite arrowhead against her palm. “A gift?” Link shrugged. “From someone special?” the princess teased.

Link rolled his eyes, pushed off of the windowsill, and walked down the middle of the bedroom. He kept his back to Zelda as he studied the textured wallpaper. 

“I bet you thanked them,” Zelda continued. “Said the words aloud and everything, right?” She couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of her voice when she uttered a soft laugh. “But I don’t even warrant a hello.”

Link folded his arms. He reminded himself not to take up Impa’s invitations anymore.

“Isn’t five years long enough?” Zelda pressed. “Just one word, Link. I want to know you’re doing okay. Can you at least tell me that yourself? I’m tired of hearing everything secondhand through Impa.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. _Stupid_ to think he could see Zelda and not have their last and only fight packed close around every interaction. It was always the same, no matter how hard Link tried. He shook his head and turned around. He made to move around Zelda to the window, but she stepped in front of him.

“I’m not finished,” the princess declared. “I want a goodbye. At least give me that. I can’t take this silence anymore, Link!”

Link was tempted to snap back at her. With her hands on her hips and her chin stuck out, she was a vivid reminder of the last time they shared the same living space. He barely spoke to her when he first met her, but there were _some_ words passed between them, mostly encouraged by Impa, and over the years they grew as close as friends of different classes could be. Now there was only resentment and regret. But that was her fault. She had pushed him out.

 _You’re not living any sort of life. You just sulk about. Get out, Link. Get_ out! 

Link relaxed his clenched hands and moved Zelda out of his way with a gentle push. She let him go by without any further confrontation. He climbed out through the window in silence, like every time before, and returned to the roof. There he lay down against the shingles and folded his arms behind his head. He knew he wouldn’t be waiting long.

Ten minutes went by before the roof hatch fifteen feet to Link’s left clapped open. Impa’s head rose up through it. Her face was flushed darker with anger. She strode across the roof and snapped down at him, “If you were anyone else, I would have had you whipped for treating the princess of Hyrule like that!” Link rolled his eyes and looked away. “You were rude and callous, and it’s uncalled for! Five years, Link! Can’t you put enough behind you just to say hello?”

Link rolled over, putting his back to Impa. “She’s the one who made it clear I was of no use at the castle.”

“That’s because you stopped living, Link, and you still haven’t started again. You’re just as adrift now as you were when I came across you in the gardens more than a decade ago.”

“I am not!” Link sat up to bark the words at Impa.

Impa raised a finger. “Keep your voice down. There are a dozen men and women in this house who would love an excuse to imprison you. And yes, you are. You’re lost, and I’m tired of seeing it.”

Link rose to his feet, moving as quickly as he could on the pitched shingles. It was difficult to keep his clenched fingers loose enough to avoid bloody palms. _“Hwa tuoneow kara? Eowafre mih muoter! Giva beran mih eowafre!”_

Link’s lips were barely closed around the last word when Impa’s hand struck out and grabbed a hold of his left sidelock. She tugged him closer towards her, paying no mind to his struggles and curses. “Now you’ve pushed me,” Impa said to Link in a low voice. “I may not have given birth to you, but I did raise you long enough to deserve better respect, so you had best watch your tone around me. I taught you the Sheikan tongue, and I will rip it right back out if you disrespect me.” She tugged on Link’s hair for emphasis. “Do you understand?”

Link relaxed his body and ceased struggling. In this case, he knew it would be better to admit defeat. _“Gese, meistre._ Yes, Impa.”

Impa pushed Link away from her. “Remember how your behavior reflects on Rusl’s memory. If he was here right now, he would be ashamed.” She turned her back to him and folded her arms. “Go. I don’t want to look at you right now. And I’d better not learn of you doing anything stupid before I see or hear from you again, understand?” 

_“Gese, meistre,”_ Link repeated, humbled. “I’m sorry,” he added. 

“I’ll accept your apology,” Impa replied. She spared him one small glance. “Now start working on one for the princess.”

##########

**Translations:**

All of the translations in this chapter are from Sheikan:

 _Typikas:_ Typical

 _desider:_ desire

 _hnec:_ neck

_obstinare:_ The literal translation is “obstinate”; “stubborn” also works.

 _“Farawelta forvuwinda”_ and _“Eow blodung wid esegal hap”:_ This is a typical Sheikan exchange of goodbyes between two or more people who are very close as friends, family, and/or lovers. It can also be used as a formal parting between a master and their student. (In Impa’s and Link’s case, both uses for the phrasing apply.) The literal translations are “May the wind favor you” followed by “May it blow for you as well”. 

_“Hwa tuoneow kara? Eowafre mih muoter! Giva beran mih eowafre!”:_ “What do you care? You’re not my mother! You didn’t give birth to me!”

 _“Gese, meistre”:_ A deferential phrase/address. The literal translation is “Yes, master”. In Sheikan, _meistre_ is a respectful term equivalent to _sensei_ in Japanese.


	5. Breathing Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, a few small glimpses into Link's past are offered, and our hero travels to the coast with a certain Gerudo king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, thank you for your continued support for this story. I truly appreciate it.
> 
>  **A note on the horses:** I imagined Ganondorf’s steed as a classic build Friesian horse for this fanfiction. As for Epona, she’s often modeled/drawn with a clear Clydesdale tilt. However, I really can’t imagine Link riding around on something that large in my fanfiction, especially since I have him using Epona for her speed and endurance so often. Therefore, she has no particular inspiration beyond the _Zelda Wii U_ teaser trailer.
> 
>  **Additionally,** Gerudian, Zoran, and Sheikan are all spoken in this chapter. Translations are available at the bottom of the text, however the context should keep things clear.
> 
> Questions, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcome from both AO3 users and guests. Please enjoy, thank you.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Breathing Room

_“Hello again, boy.”_

_He took his usual seat on the edge of a small rock and tried another countless time to peer through the gloom of the cave’s mouth. “Hello,” he returned. His hands worked together._

_“This is our fourth little talk, isn’t it?”_

_“Mmmm-hmmm.” He looked behind him, out over Helvus Lake, which could be seen in its entirety from the top of the low mountain. It gleamed beneath the sun like a brilliant eye. The sound of shifting stone in the cave caught his ear, and he turned back to it. He caught a glimpse of… something, just behind the gloom._

_“You still haven’t told me your name, boy,” the voice in the cave whispered. It was feminine and rough around the edges. It had first spoken to him in a dream two months ago; a dream of this very mountain, and the cave carved into it._

_He fidgeted and swung his feet against the rock.”Why don’t you come out?” he asked._

_“I’ve told you: I can’t until the right word is spoken. Some very mean people put me in here and put a curse on me. You know all about mean people, don’t you, boy?”_

_Yes, he knew. He knew very well._

_“Boy, won’t you tell me your name?”_

_The voice was kind, much like his mother’s voice once was. He swallowed a hard lump in his throat. “It’s Link.”_

_“Link,” the voice repeated. There was a soft hiss of sound._ “And you shall be relieved by a link to the world. _Boy._ Link. _You are the one I’ve been dreaming of. The one my once-master promised would help me.”_

_He straightened up. “I can help you?”_

_“You can,” the voice replied in a tone like silk. Something large settled down within the cave. “Tell me about yourself, Link.”_

_“Okay,” he agreed._

#

Link’s right index finger twitched against his palm. Seven minutes. The ache was sneaking into his lungs. His head was growing light. He embraced the feeling. It lifted him above the darker memories that kept trying to sneak in.

_Link, do you want to help me scale the fish? Come on, it’s more fun than it sounds._

_Link, tell me about where you live._

_Outstanding, Link! That was a whole thirty seconds longer than before! I thought you’d turned into a fish for a moment there._

_Link, how many are in your tribe?_

Link’s right ring finger twitched. Nine minutes and counting. Everything ached now. 

_Daddy, I think those men are following us._

_Link, are there a lot of strong people in your tribe?_

Link’s right pinkie failed to twitch.

_Aryll, run! Take the horse, take Link, and run before they catch you!_

_Do they have weapons that could hurt me, Link?_

_Their screams raked through his ears._

_Do they have weapons that could_ kill _me, Link?_

_“Bradamta.”_

A hand trailed up the front of Link’s shirt, and he sucked in his first breath in over ten minutes. Something kicked back in his chest. He turned over and expelled water through his mouth and nose in violent heave. Beyond the splatter of the water against the rock he had come around to find himself on, he heard a familiar voice working its twang through passable Zoran. 

_“Thacia. Ciselle giaya.”_

_“Wylmiau,”_ came a smoother reply before a splash.

The Zoran words were replaced with accented Hylian. “You keep this ridiculous behavior up, and I might rescind my rescinding of my rescinded offer.”

Link coughed the last of the water from his lungs, pushed himself up into a sitting position, and fell to squeezing out his tunic. “Don’t…” He coughed again and winced when his throat panged. “Don’t attempt to sound smarter than you are.”

Ganondorf laughed at that. “We’ve passed half a dozen lines of conversation, and you have the guts to say something like that? I’ve denied Gerudos their sleep for less.”

Link shook his wet bangs out of his eyes and looked to his right. Ganondorf had taken a seat five feet away on the other side of the rock. His stallion and Epona stood on the riverbank together, nosing each other with cautious familiarity. 

“I last saw you four days ago, and you were fit as a fiddle--if aloof,” Ganondorf continued. Link snorted water out of his sore nose. It dribbled down, and he wiped it away in disgust. “What happened? Did a monster finally knock you on your ass? Did some boy or girl you had your eye on turn you down? Or maybe what your mentor said dug at you more than you realized, hmmm?”

Did he have any privacy anymore? Link snorted again. No water came out this time. “I was practicing my breath-holding. It got out of hand.”

“In all your clothes, huh?” Ganondorf shook his head. “There are better ways to deal with stress and anger.”

“Why are you here?” Link snapped at him. “I haven’t reconsidered your offer.”

 _“Thank you for saving my life, Ganondorf._ Oh, you’re most welcome, Link, but it was nothing. It’s what friends are for.” Link’s glare told Ganondorf he didn’t appreciate the word ‘friend’ tossed around. “I make a worse enemy,” the Gerudo king promised him. 

Link’s hand instinctively went to his lower back, but he had removed his short blade before diving. Ganondorf’s hand moved next, and Link tensed in anticipation of an attack. The Hylian’s clothes and hair jerked as if in a sudden, strong gust of wind. The sorcery didn’t last long, and it left him dry afterwards. 

“If you want to get away from your troubles for a while, we’ll go to the coast,” Ganondorf continued while Link picked at his dry tunic. “There’s nothing like seeing the edge of the known world to put your life’s little problems into perspective.”

Link shook his head. He couldn’t spare time for a trip. He had something to take care of. 

Ganondorf was either a mind reader or practiced with interpreting faces, for he spoke Link’s very thoughts aloud. “Is it about that flashy little spider-like thing running around?” he asked. 

Link was startled to learn Ganondorf knew of the problem, but then the Gerudo king had already shown an uncanny knack for knowing things about him. He nodded and bowed his head. 

“What’d you do, stumble over it in a ruin?” Ganondorf asked in jest.

Link frowned at his lap. In fact, that was what had happened exactly, during a visit to a ruin the day before. Link was unable to get his specialized arrow out and notched in time before the monster vanished into the woods at the edge of the ruin. He had spent most of the remaining day tracking it with no luck, and this morning his frustration with himself had overtaken him. It hadn’t helped Link was still angry over Zelda’s and Impa’s words to him. The weight had dragged at him through his morning routine until he decided to let it go with some free diving.

“It’s harmless,” Ganondorf continued when he saw the regret in Link’s face. “It runs from anything that approaches it. It’ll keep until we get back. Come on, let’s go.”

There were no other excuses Link could offer which would hold up against Ganondorf’s persistence. There was the subtle threat beneath the Gerudo king’s every word to worry about as well. It told Link Ganondorf was not refused often. He pushed himself onto his feet and adjusted his hair and clothes back into place. At the edge of the rock, he slipped his boots back on before walking to Epona and climbing into the saddle. 

“Three hours to, three hours back.” Ganondorf looked up at the sun before he climbed up into his saddle. “That gives us about… two hours of leisure time if we want to avoid a dark ride home. Sound like a plan?” Link shrugged. “We can follow the river until we reach Occea Pass. There’s a checkpoint at either end. The toll is waived for me, and as I promised I can get you through without much trouble. So let’s be off.”

Epona fell in beside Ganondorf’s horse without much guidance from Link. (The steed’s name was Torrent, Link would learn along the ride, and it was a purebred Gerudo stallion from a line that went back more than three hundred years.) The going was easy, as most of the way along the Zora River was clear of any considerable obstacles, and the immediate access to fresh water kept everyone’s thirst quenched. Ganondorf attempted to get Link talking at least once every quarter hour or so, mostly by pointing out significant landmarks and asking if they had a local name. Nearly every time Link had an answer, and he would expand on each landmark’s cultural or spiritual importance if there was one--although reluctantly, and with as few sentences as possible.

“’The Goddesses’ Spire’?” Ganondorf repeated once as he gazed up at the twisted pillar of rock he had asked Link to name. At the base of the rock was an assortment of offerings adorned with written prayers.

Link knew the story behind this one. “People say it looks like the path the Goddesses took when they left Hyrule, leaving the Triforce behind,” he explained.

“The Triforce,” Ganondorf murmured. He caught the apple Link tossed him and took an immediate bite out of it while still gazing up at the pillar. It was passing behind now. “I grew up hearing the stories and legends. As a child, I would dream almost every night of the golden land of Hyrule and the Triforce that the benevolent Goddesses left behind.” Ganondorf heard Link snort, and he turned around in his saddle with a dangerous look on his dark face. “What?”

“’Benevolent’?” Link repeated. He shook his head. “We’re toys to them. Or ants. Insignificant, at any rate. How else do you explain all of the unanswered prayers?”

“You expect things to be handed to you simply because you ask?” Ganondorf raised a clenched hand. “You have to have the determination to make things happen. The opportunity is always there. You just need to take it.”

Link countered in a rising voice, “No amount of determination or opportunity will bring back my family and tribe. No number of prayers or offerings to those… those…” His Hylian failed him in the face of his growing anger and he switched to Sheikan, nearly spitting the words. _“…gelare Gotess velle chamm einatheis. Peup nawa rozia.”_

Ganondorf suspected the words weren’t a compliment, and the set of Link’s face told him it was likely best not to know what was said. He cast a final look at the Goddesses’ Spire and turned forward again. “I can add grudges to the list of key things to get you to talk,” he remarked. A half-eaten apple struck his back.

The first checkpoint at the start of Occea Pass drew Link from his dark thoughts and into wary alert. Beyond the towering gate, the pass wound up and around a low cliff where it fell out of sight. There was a short line of people, livestock, and carts before the gate, waiting for clearance to pass through. Link guided Epona to the end of the line, keeping his head low. When he saw that Ganondorf was bypassing the line and making his way forward, Link hurried to fall back into place beside him. He put his hood up along the way.

Ganondorf saw this and hissed over his shoulder, “No, put it down. You’re less recognizable that way, don’t you know?”

Link didn’t. He thought everyone knew his face. He dropped the hood, but hunched his shoulders as he passed by the people lined up to his right. There were some heated looks, but they appeared to be mostly aimed at the fact that Ganondorf was skipping ahead. The few people who recognized Link right away weren’t brave enough to raise an outcry in the presence of his diplomat escort.

“Lord Ganondorf,” the guards greeted, one by one, when Ganondorf pulled Torrent to a stop in front of them. “What brings you to Occea Pass, my lord?” the captain asked once his fellows had paid their respects.

“I’m taking my friend here to the coast,” Ganondorf replied. He gestured at Link, who was watching the armed men and women for any sign of dissent with a cautious eye. 

The captain’s shoulders rose and fell in a small huff. “I’m afraid I can’t let this young man through the checkpoint, Lord Ganondorf,” he said in an even voice. “Simply put, he’s trouble. I won’t have him making a name for himself beyond this pass. It will come back to me, and I can’t allow that.”

Link had to admire the captain. It wasn’t easy to stand at the feet of someone like Ganondorf and issue a denial.

A winning smile came to Ganondorf’s face. “What’s your name, captain?”

“Garner, my lord. Sal Garner.”

“Captain Garner,” Ganondorf picked up, “are you aware of the treaty that brought the Gerudo and Hyrule into such close ties? And do you know how tenuous a treaty it is, given the bloody war that was waged before it was signed? Now…” Ganondorf pressed a hand to his chest in a humble gesture. “I’m only a Gerudo king, born long after the war was fought and lost by my people. But I’m sure if I dug deep enough I could find some of my ancestors’ thirst for revenge, and turn it onto this beautiful land and all of its citizens. And do you know what I would say to King Daphnes the moment before I buried my blade into his heart?” Ganondorf leaned down towards the captain and finished in a low voice, “I’d tell him that none of this would have happened if Captain Sal Garner had been a little less cheeky and a lot more accommodating when it came to my friends.”

The way was clear a minute later.

“Be sure to send a bird ahead so that I don’t have to go through this again,” Ganondorf called to the captain after he was through the gate.

Link passed through the checkpoint with his head craned up to watch the mud-encrusted poles go by above. The pass before him was relatively open, having only a small scattering of travelers along it. Stone walls rose up on either side, and the ground was packed dirt. It was all unremarkable, yet it was new, and at the sight of it Link smiled and spurred Epona into a run. She gladly gave him as much speed as he wanted. Already the taste of saltwater was in the air; a taste Link had only ever heard of. He had seen paintings of the sea during his youth, and now the actual thing was less than an hour’s ride away. It felt like a dream. 

Link turned Epona back after a quarter mile and returned to Ganondorf at the head of the pass. The mare danced around Torrent as Link waved a hand at the pass. “Do you know how many times I’ve tried to get through here?” he asked the Gerudo king with wide eyes and a voice high with giddiness. “How many times I’ve tried convincing them through my association with the Royal Family? And you just walk up and…” He flailed the hand in a dismissive gesture. The same hand rose to his hair, and the fingers fanned through his bangs. “I can’t believe it. I can’t. This is great. I’ve never realized before how tired I’ve gotten of seeing the same field all the time, and now… This is great. This is _great!”_ He spurred Epona into another short run down and back along the pass. 

“You need to get out more,” Ganondorf remarked when Link returned to him a second time. The Hylian grinned. “Hold up for a minute.” Ganondorf caught Link’s arm before he could ride off again. His fingers worked quickly to undo the ties of the Hylian’s cloak. It was stuffed into one of Epona’s saddlebags with little ceremony. “Go on now, but don’t overtax her!” Ganondorf had to shout the last few words, as Epona had bolted away again under Link’s encouragement. “Add a change of scenery to the list,” the Gerudo king murmured. 

It was true Link had to be careful with his mare. She would give him every last scrap of energy if he asked it of her. After his third quarter-mile along the pass and back, Link dropped Epona into an easy walk beside Ganondorf. The Hylian’s head was high, and he looked around him often.

Ganondorf took out rolling papers and tobacco from a pouch on his waist. Link refused the finished cigarette when it was offered. “After Occea Pass is a port town,” Ganondorf recounted before lighting the cigarette with unseen sorcery and taking his first drag. He and Link passed a small family carting salted fish, heading towards Hyrule Field. Link turned his head to follow them; they had waved at him. 

Ganondorf expelled his lungful of smoke through his nose. “The port’s called Zora Cape, after the tribe of saltwater Zora that live further out in the water. We can grab a quick bite to eat before moving on to this quiet beach I know of.”

Link stood up in his stirrups and lifted his nose. The smell of salt was stronger on the breeze. His eyes caught an osprey flying overhead. It passed him and Ganondorf, carrying a message tube on the talons tucked close to its body.

The osprey was on a roost by the second checkpoint, resting its wings before its return flight, when Link rode up alongside Ganondorf. The soldiers and their captain were dutiful to the Gerudo king. They passed words with him, speaking of the weather and general news from Zora Cape. 

Idle talk was of no interest to Link. He pulled some jerky from a waist pouch and held his left forearm up and out. A few of the soldiers turned their heads when they heard him whistle the Royal Army’s particular five-note birdcall. The osprey crossed the distance from its roost to Link’s arm in a few wing beats. Its hook-like talons clasped around Link’s bracer and, after a second’s adjustment, it settled on the arm. Link rewarded it with the jerky he had softened up in his free hand. While the osprey ate, he ran a bare finger down its grey breast, admiring the sleek feathers.

“Finished?” came Ganondorf’s voice. 

Link looked to him and found all of the soldiers were now watching him and the osprey. He sent the bird back to its roost and followed Ganondorf through the checkpoint’s gate. Epona’s rump had barely passed beneath the gate when the stationed captain called out, “You’d be welcome in the Royal Army any day, Master Blue Arrow!”

“’Master Blue Arrow’,” Ganondorf repeated, laughing. Link rolled his eyes. “That’s laying it on a little thick, huh?” He laughed again when Link sent him an _It’s your fault_ look.

There was no distinct entrance to the Zora Cape. Rather, the various buildings and roads of the port town extended out in a wide arc. The spread followed the shape of the shoreline that swept away from the jut of land which gave the port half of its name. Here, the traffic was higher. People and animals passed by Link, sometimes waving or offering a greeting. He stared back at them and tried not to transfer his skittishness through Epona’s reins. An Ordon goat brayed as it passed close by, pulling a cart loaded down with rounds of cheese. Link jerked Epona to the right, and she nearly collided with Torrent.

“Hey!” Ganondorf reached down and grabbed the cheek piece of Epona’s bridle. The mare stilled, but the same couldn’t be said for her rider. “What’s wrong with you?” Ganondorf asked, having noted Link’s quick breaths and pallid face.

“Busy,” Link murmured. He flinched when a messenger trotted by on a quick gelding. 

“You go to Castle Town,” Ganondorf reminded him. “This is no busier than that.”

“I go on off hours and days,” Link explained. “After most of the people have come and gone.”

“It’s a port.” Ganondorf spoke with forced patience. “A lot of ships coming and going, and a lot of people too. All of that can’t wait for one or two devoted days for market. Relax.” He released Epona’s bridle. Link fell back into place beside him, looking only a little less harried. “You’re with me, and you’re not as well-known here outside Hyrule proper. Everything will be fine.”

Epona chuffed, shook her head, and resumed an easy walk. She was calm when Link wasn’t jerking her around, which was surprising given her aversion to strangers. He tried to channel some of her peace into himself, but it wasn’t easy at first. He kept expecting to see glares sent his way, or a soldier walking up to him to question what business he had being here. Instead, people looked up at him with no angry recognition in their eyes, giving a smile or even a hello. A Zora band member passed a flyer up to Link which advertised a music show slated for the evening, and an ever-smiling man offered a coupon for a mask and costume shop. He had half a carrot for Epona as well, and in parting he urged Link to believe in his strengths. 

“You get all kinds at a port,” Ganondorf remarked when he saw Link cast a confused look at the man’s back. “Come on, I know a small place for a good meal.”

The ‘small place’ was indeed small--a stand shoved into the mouth of an alley between a bait shop and one of the many fish markets along the main road built parallel to the shore. Link secured the horses at a nearby hitching post to avoid mingling with the crowd. He lingered on the edge of the mass of Hylians, Zoras, and other races he had no name for as Ganondorf ducked under the stand’s awning. Link didn’t see the Gerudo king reemerge, so he started when he heard Ganondorf ask, “Are you eating or not?”

There were a total of two stools set before a narrow counter under the awning. With the alley walls pressing in on both sides, there was little room for much more. Two plates of grilled fish and vegetables were steaming on the shelf. A Hylian stood on the other side of the counter, cooking more food behind a wall of glass. The small, hot space felt smaller and hotter with the odor of fish saturating the air. Link nearly gagged when the smell struck his nose. 

“Fish is the cheapest thing here, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be good.” Ganondorf sucked the meat off a narrow fish bone. He frowned around the bone when he saw Link’s look of disgust. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t eat fish,” Link told him. 

“What do you mean by that? You’re from the Regn Tri--” Ganondorf broke off when Link gave a vehement shake of his head, his face pale. The Gerudo king narrowed his eyes further and pulled the bone from between his teeth. “More for me then,” he said, and he threw the contents of Link’s plate onto his. Before Link could consider protesting, Ganondorf lobbed a small purse at him. Link caught it and felt the shape of rupees within. “Go get what you want and meet me here when you’re done.”

Link nodded his head in thanks and hurried out of the stifling atmosphere of the stand. He nearly ran into a group of Zoras, and for a moment there was a scramble of finned limbs before the Zoras moved around him on their webbed feet. They walked on, speaking in their native tongue, which was smoother and flowed better than any other language in Hyrule. Listening to them, Link could understand why the most accomplished singers in the kingdom were Zoran.

Seagulls swooped inches above Link’s head as he walked the line of markets and shops, acutely aware of every person around him. It was difficult to move without bumping into someone at almost every turn. Or perhaps he was simply unused to crowds, for everyone else had no problem avoiding each other. Occasionally he looked to his left, out over the sea. Each time the sight disappointed him. With the ships and docks crowding almost every available foot of the shore, the sea looked like nothing more than an overpopulated Lake Hylia, a body of water in Hyrule which was wide enough to hide its far edge beyond the horizon. 

With some searching and a lot of dodging, Link found a stand that offered sliced brisket between two pieces of bread for eight rupees. There was exact change in Ganondorf’s purse, but Link offered a red rupee, expecting the price to be higher for him. He was taken aback when he received a yellow rupee and two green for change along with his wrapped food. 

Fresh beef was so rare in Link’s diet, he relished each bite. He sat down on a bench overlooking the shore and took his time eating as he watched sailors load and unload ships. The bulk of the goods were boxed or bagged, but Link spied a few large treasures that he knew would catch a good price for those who had found them. The brief, fanciful idea to become a sailor passed through his mind, and he smiled to himself. He was sure he would have liked the life on the water, but he knew the confining space of a ship would drive him mad.

After finishing his meal, Link decided to try a small experiment. He found a shop run by Zoras--one of the ‘tourist traps’ Ganondorf had warned him of on the ride through Occea Pass. Souvenirs of every variety--all made from elements of the sea--hung on the walls and overflowed from wooden boxes. Most of the things on display were tacky or ruined by too much handling, but Link came across a practical find in the form of a hair tie adorned with a small scallop shell. The bin it came from said three rupees. Link dropped the tie onto the shop owner’s counter along with a yellow rupee. 

_“Aefres?”_ the Zora shopkeeper asked as he took Link’s rupee. 

Link wasn’t sure what to say. Aside from his reluctance to speak, he knew very little Zoran--only a few words, mostly slang, that had worked its way into the Hylian language. _“Jesaypa,”_ he said instead, using the universal word in Hyrule for _I don’t understand._

“He’s asking if the tie is everything you’re getting,” spoke up a voice behind Link. He turned and stepped to the side when he found another Zora behind him. Like the Zora behind the counter, this one was tall with white, slick skin patterned in blue swirls and loops. The markings were different from the first Zora’s, however, as they were between every member of the race.

“You’re a jumpy thing,” the second Zora remarked, laughing. He added something to his fellow in their native tongue, flapping a hand at the same time. They both laughed together. “I’m afraid Cerul hasn’t gotten the hang of speaking Hylian yet, although he understands it well enough,” continued the second Zora. “Putting him in charge of the till is supposed to help him learn, but the hard consonants can be tricky for our kind.”

Link shook his head to dismiss the language barrier as nothing to worry about. He watched Cerul make change of the yellow rupee. One blue rupee and two green was returned to Link. He dropped them into the purse while his mind marveled over this radical change from the norm.

The second, unnamed Zora took up the seashell tie and set to replacing Link’s current, worn-out one with it. Link had no time to deny the favor, so he stood stiff on his feet while the Zora’s webbed hands worked at his hair. ‘Personal space’ had little meaning to as social a people as the Zora.

At the counter, Cerul called, “Brune!” and pointed at Link. _“Cisis micilia_ Regn _trius icis naurius, nya?”_

Link’s ears caught ‘Regn’ amidst the words, and he jerked his head around. The second Zora, now identified, turned Link’s head forward again. “My friend says you have the same poise and style of dress as the Regn Tribe,” Brune spoke while his hands worked. “I was thinking the same thing. It’s just strange, as we Zoras thought they were wiped out years ago.”

“I’m the last,” Link confirmed. It was always hard to say the words aloud, and this time was no different. His stomach twisted at them, and a shiver ran up his spine.

“Is that so?” Brune tugged Link’s hair once, sharply. “Finished,” he sang, making the musical quality of his voice even more melodious. “You were wearing the tail too high,” he pointed out while Link’s hands felt at the back of his head. “It should be even with the bottom of your ears--no, _not_ the lobes. The point where the ears connect to your head.” He guided Link’s searching finger further along to the small space between his earlobe and the top of his jaw line. “That’s how the Regn men wore their hair. Why the earrings, though? That was a more feminine trend in the tribe.”

“For my mother and sister,” Link explained in a low voice as he turned around. He jerked back from the necklace he found hanging in his face. Cerul was holding it up in an inviting way. From the loop of hemp that made up the necklace hung a center-cut seashell. The hollows around the exposed columella gave the shell a leaf-like appearance.

“Chula,” Cerul said, naming the shell. He dropped the necklace over Link’s head. The shell clacked against the howlite arrowhead in a pleasing way. 

Link traced the inside of a hollow in admiration. “How much?”

“Mmmm…” Brune shared a look with Cerul, who said something in Zoran and shrugged. “Just a smile,” Brune said, turning back to Link. “It’s a special sale today.”

Link complied. The smile stiffened a little when Cerul reached out to coax his chin up a little higher.

“That’s better,” Brune said, nodding in approval of Cerul’s adjustment. “Keep your head up, little Regn Hylian. You have a heavy weight on your shoulders, so keep your head up or that weight will drag you down and drown you.” Link bowed his head in both a promise to try and in thanks.

“Tell your friends about us,” Brune called as Link left the store. “We have half-off weekend sales every weekend.” Link had no reply for that, so he waved a final goodbye and ducked back into the flow of people outside the shop. 

Ganondorf was waiting by the horses with his arms folded atop the hitching rail and his eyes studying the sea. “You look a little less green now than you did when we got here,” the Gerudo king remarked when Link reached him. “Feeling better?” Link nodded. “Let’s see the damage then.”

Link handed over the purse, but Ganondorf tucked it away without counting the remaining rupees, which to Link’s credit were still numerous in number. “Let’s get out of here, huh?” Ganondorf said as he swung up into his saddle. “It’s much quieter only a mile away.”

Ganondorf led the way along a little-used road that swept up the cape and down its other side. At the top of the road, Link stopped Epona to take in the completely different view. No ships or docks choked the shoreline on this side of the cape. Instead, a sweeping arm of tan sand caught each wave that rushed in and crashed against the beach. Dunes, spotted with scraggly brush and driftwood, gave the area an almost abandoned look. Link found himself liking the beach at first sight. When he and Epona reached the bottom of the road and came within earshot of the roar of the waves, he liked it even more.

The horses were freed of their tack and let loose. Epona was skittish for a short while. The first wave that crashed over her hooves sent her trotting away with ears back and tail tucked. Torrent’s ease with the water helped Epona to adjust. She stopped running away and started to experiment with the waves by pawing at the shallows and sampling the salty water. Her head rose often to the birds wheeling overhead, squalling and riding the sea breezes. 

Link watched Epona as he stripped down to his pants and peeled off his boots. He could understand her initial fright. The sea, as Ganondorf had said, was magnificent, but it gave the impression of caring nothing for anything that got in its way. Even the land submitted to its eroding power, slowly but surely, over the course of the years. The sand underfoot was the very evidence of that. 

Link followed a moss-tipped tern gliding over him as he pulled off his second boot. He tossed it into the sand along with the rest of his belongings and glanced at Ganondorf in time to see the man pull off his shirt. A spread of black lines and shapes against his greenish-brown skin was revealed. Link hurried over for a closer look, stumbling on a low rise of sand. “Is that a… a…” The word wouldn’t come. He had heard it spoken only once, and in passing. 

Ganondorf looked back over his shoulder. _“Tatau,”_ he supplied. He tossed his shirt down and tilted his head to each side in a thought-searching gesture. “That’s probably the closest you’ll get. Hylian has no word for it.”

“I’ve seen one before,” Link said as his eyes tracked the marking, marveling. “It was a lot smaller, though, on the back of a trader’s hand. It was his daughter’s name.” 

“He must have passed through the Gerudo territory at some point. I don’t think anyone in Hyrule knows the art.” 

“So what is it?” Link asked. “I see the dragons, but what’s all this script? And the symbols?” He reached out and traced one of the two entwined dragons that made up the largest portion of the design. He forgot he was looking at an expanse of skin, so he was surprised to see the dragons twitch when Ganondorf chuckled at his enthusiasm. Or perhaps the Gerudo king was just ticklish.

 _“Eterta bowtan tewinta esti,”_ Ganondorf relayed in his sharp Gerudian language. _“The wind is always blowing._ It means opportunity is always there. It’s a very old and very important proverb for the Gerudo. Long, long ago, the Gerudo were a seafaring race, so the wind meant life or death to them. They had to know how to use it to their advantage. Now that we live in a less-fertile land, that wind is just as fundamental to our survival. It can mean life in the seeds and rain-heavy clouds it brings, or death when it chooses not to blow at all.”

“And the circles?” Link asked. 

_“Mandala,”_ Ganondorf provided.

Link’s eyes followed a spiraling line inside one of the three identical _mandalas_ situated between the dragons’ looping bodies and--in one case out of the three--within a set of claws. The line ended in a triangle. Link put it all together quick enough. “The pieces of the Triforce?”

“My own touch,” Ganondorf confirmed. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve dreamt of Hyrule all my life.”

Link took two steps back to take in the whole picture again. His brow furrowed in contemplation and he declared, “I want a _tatau.”_

Ganondorf laughed heartily at that. The dragons on his back danced with the act. “Get in the water,” he commanded, and he waved a hand in the direction of the surf. “It’s what we rode three hours for.”

“No, really, I want--What are you-- _Wait.”_ Link turned to run, but stumbled again on the sand. He didn’t get away in time. Ganondorf grabbed him around the waist and toted him to the water. Link’s fists were no threat against the Gerudo king’s desert-hardened body, and his curses broke off into an indignant wail when he was tossed out over the waves. 

The cold was the first thing to hit Link upon plunging into the water. This was no bottom-of-a-swimming-hole cold. This was bone deep, untouched-by-the-sun cold. This was cold that was dragged begrudgingly from the sea’s depths just to be flung against the sand for a wave or two. It lit every inch of Link’s skin, and raised every hair on his arms when they broke above the surface with his head. The cold was a refreshingly, astoundingly _good_ feeling, however; one of the purest he’d had in years. In the wake of it, he walked back onto the shore, spitting brine and laughing, and collapsed against the sand. The incoming waves pushed up beneath his back and shoulders while he closed his eyes and savored the new sensations.

Link opened his eyes when a shadow fell over him. He found Ganondorf staring down at him with a puzzled look on his face. “What?” Link asked him, chortling and wiping tears from his eyes. 

_“That,”_ Ganondorf said with a rise of his eyebrows. “You. _Laughing._ When was the last time you did that?” Link’s face took on a searching look, and Ganondorf raised a hand. “Stop. Get in the damn water again. I like you better when you’re not your normal self.”

Link grinned and pushed himself onto his feet. The next incoming wave was met with arms stretched out in a shallow dive, and he disappeared into the surf.

Once past the push and pull of the incoming waves, Link found peace in the shallows of the sea. While Ganondorf practiced his strokes closer to shore, Link put his breath holding talents to their maximum use. He stayed under the water for minutes on end as he swam from one reef to the next, inspecting the creatures and fish that lived amongst them. He had never before seen such diversity in one small area, and several times he lost track of the passing minutes, surfacing only when his panging lungs reminded him of the need to breathe. Once his lungs were flexed and full again, Link plunged back into the water, taking delight in the freedom of movement in every direction that the shallows afforded him. The water was as clear as glass, giving a view of dozens of yards in every direction. The sun shined through the surface to cast patterns of light across Link’s skin. 

An hour into his swim, Link had to stop and sink to the bottom in both fear and amazement when a gyorg appeared out of the far gloom. Even under the water, a monster had found him. Link had seen a gyorg only rarely, and only dead, at the Castle Town fishmonger stall. They were large, carnivorous fish with long, triangular pectoral fins and tall dorsal fins sticking out of a short body. Their colors ranged from deep purple to light brown, and their snouts and foreheads were fortified with an impressive expanse of rock and dead coral fused together by lines of barnacles.

And there was more than one here. An entire school was heading towards Link. He sunk further down until the seat of his pants touched the seabed. The school swam overhead, casting their oval shadows over him. They perceived Link as no threat and passed on without care. Link watched the first dozen pass over at various intervals before he grew brave enough to try something so stupid, he knew Impa would no doubt disapprove of it. He stretched up and brushed the fingers of his right hand along a gyorg’s underbelly. It was rough to the touch; almost like sandpaper. 

The gyorg paid Link no mind save to move its next tail stroke a little faster. Link let it slip away and did the same to the next gyorg to come within his reach. By the fourth touch, he was feeling braver. He swam up above the school to the small space between their bodies and where their dorsal fins cut through the surface. He seized the next fin to go by him. Indifferent, the chosen gyorg towed Link several yards until the Hylian broke away, not wanting to push his luck. Link surfaced and watched the gyorgs glide to either side of him. His thoughts tried to circle back to _monsters watch out danger_ every other second, but all he could see was the surreal beauty of the dorsal fins slipping around him.

Ganondorf had retired to the shore and was sitting on the sand, drying off in the sun. He shook his head when Link returned to the beach. “I was waiting for pieces of you to come floating back,” he said, nodding at the last of the dorsal fins moving out of sight in the distance. Link dropped to the sand and sucked in breath after breath. “Our time’s nearly up,” Ganondorf warned him. He glanced up at the sun. “A little less than ten minutes, all right?” Link nodded, eyes closed and limbs spread. Sand glinted off his skin like diamonds.

Ganondorf dug an apple out of Link’s saddlebags; the crisp flesh of the fruit was refreshing under the sun. It wasn’t long before Torrent trotted over on high hooves; the extended hair on his lower legs gave the run a showy look. The stallion’s long mane nearly covered Ganondorf’s head when the horse dropped his nose down towards the apple. 

“Is this what you want, you beggar?” Ganondorf asked. He allowed Torrent one bite of the apple before raising it out of reach, only to have Epona come up behind him and snatch the rest of it out of his hand. _“Hey!”_ Ganondorf made a futile grab for the apple. Epona trotted out of his reach, head high. Torrent followed her. “Link.” Ganondorf nudged Link’s spread leg with a sandy foot. _“Link,_ your mare would make a good Gerudo thief.”

Link’s lips quirked. He opened his eyes, pushed himself into a sitting position, and picked up a nearby scrap of driftwood. The tapered wings and forked tail of a bird quickly came to life in lines dug into the sand between his splayed legs.

“What is it?” Ganondorf asked once the picture was farther along. Link looked up in response, and the Gerudo king craned his head back. High above, several moss-tipped terns were coasting on the breeze.

“Aryll, my older sister, loved seabirds,” Link said. He fell to smoothing out the finer details of his art. The tern’s body was made of disconnected and overlapping strokes with a broken outline but a definite shape. “They would rest at Helvus Lake, my tribe’s home, when they migrated to and from the coast between the seasons. All kinds--gulls, terns, frigate birds… So many, I can’t remember them all, although I used to be able to identify each one on sight. The benefits of a younger mind, I guess. Anyway…” He frowned, leaned forward, and smoothed out the tern’s beak with a hand to re-draw it. “Aryll would spend every spare moment she could, sitting on the lakeshore and watching the seabirds. There wasn’t as much time for that after my parents died, though, because she had to raise me.”

“How did they die?” Ganondorf asked, as gently as he could. He knew the answer, but he wanted to gauge how much Link was willing to share.

Link shrugged. “It was nothing so impressive worthy of the infamous Blue Arrow.” His voice broke at the weak attempt to make light of his past. A minute passed by before he picked up, “I was young--three or four. Bandits followed us on our way home from Castle Town after a day of trading. My father was a hawker of treasure found in the lake and throughout Hyrule, and my mother was an accomplished seamstress. Her work often made it into the castle. Their wallets and goods made them fat targets. 

“The bandits overtook us on horseback. We had only one horse of our own to pull the cart of stuff that we brought home from the market. When he saw the bandits coming, my father cut the horse out of its traces, threw me and Aryll on top, and told us to escape.” Link looked up, across the incoming waves. “I didn’t see them die. Aryll wouldn’t let me look back. But their screams are in my every nightmare.” Link looked down again to put the final touches on the tern. “Along with Aryll’s screams and everyone else’s, even though I wasn’t around to hear them.” He tossed the driftwood aside. “Look. It’s a moss-tipped tern.” Link looked up at the overhead terns once more. “It’s my _tatau._ It’s something that connects Aryll to me.” 

The design was large and somewhat crude, but it was easy to see how Link would want the tern’s wingspan to lay across his upper back with the body and forked tail extending down the spine. Ganondorf nodded in approval, already thinking ahead to improvements on the design. “Come to the Gerudo territory and I’ll do it for you,” he swore to Link. “It’s going to hurt though, I can promise you that,” he added.

“How much?” Link asked. 

Ganondorf reached out and pinched Link’s forearm hard, digging his nails in. “Like that, over and over until your skin is so sore that each pinprick starts to hurt twice as much.”

Link pulled his arm free and rubbed at the reddening spot. He looked over the sea again. “There are worse pains.” 

“You’ll need to take it easy with the monster hunting for about two or three weeks after as well,” Ganondorf added.

Link nodded. “I’ll be sure to clear my schedule.”

Ganondorf laughed and got to his feet. He brushed sand from his pants before stretching. “Come on, Link. We need to get moving. I want to refill our water skins at the port before the ride back.”

“A couple minutes more,” Link begged without moving his eyes from the water. Ganondorf nodded and dropped down beside him again.

##########

**Translations:**

_Bradamta:_ A Gerudian word which Ganondorf has twisted into a spell. The literal translation would be close to “breath”.

 _“Thacia. Ciselle giaya.”:_ [Zoran] “Thank you. He’ll be fine.”

 _“Wylmiau.”:_ [Zoran] “You’re welcome.”

“No number of prayers or offerings to those… those _gelare Gotess velle chamm einatheis. Peup nawa rozia.”:_ The last half of this is in Sheikan, and it fully translates as, “No number of prayers or offerings to those… those damn Goddesses will change anything. They can rot.” Something like this said in the language of the Sheikah--a highly spiritual people--is considered grave blasphemy. 

_“Aefres?”:_ [Zoran] “Is this everything?”

 _Jesaypa:_ As the context explains, this is the universal word in Hyrule which means “I don’t understand”. It is spoken when one person can’t understand the language of another, but there are instances when it is used as slang, equivalent to a dismissive “I don’t know”. [I created this word as a play on the French _Je ne sais pas,_ which means “I don’t know”.]

 _“Cisis micilia Regn trius icis naurius, nya?”:_ [Zoran] The literal translation is “He is much like the Regn Tribe in his manner, no?” In Hylian it would be simplified to, “He looks like he’s Regn, right?”

 _Tatau:_ Used throughout this fanfiction, this word is supposed to come across as Gerudian, but it is in actuality the borrowed Polynesian word for “tattoo”. 

_Mandala:_ Another borrowed word (this time from Sanskrit) parading as Gerudian. Mandalas are spiritual and ritual symbols that represent the universe, most often used in Hinduism and Buddhism.


	6. Butting Heads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, our hero and his Gerudian companion return from the coast to an unwelcoming party. Some time passes with the Gorons as well before a plight comes to Ordon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support of this fanfiction. It means a lot to me.
> 
> One line of Sheikan is in his chapter. The translation is provided at the end, although it is not necessary to understand the full context.
> 
> Questions, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are all welcomed from both AO3 users and guests. Please enjoy, thank you.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Butting Heads

The sun fell behind the low walls that gave Occea Pass its shape, and the road was thrown into semi-darkness. Ganondorf looked up at the red light burning on the top of the pass and sighed. _I’m too soft sometimes,_ he thought with only mild disappointment in himself. Link’s request for a few minutes more time at the beach had lengthened to another hour in the shallows. He had taken a small burlap bag with him, and returned to the shore with the bag bulging with peach-colored conch shells of a fair size. One was given to Ganondorf, and a second was hung from one of Epona’s saddlebags as ornamentation.

“And the rest?” Ganondorf had asked, climbing into his saddle. Link had shrugged, but there was a strange look in his eye. It was almost as if he was surprised with himself. He led the way back to the port, and he was calmer in the departure amidst the flow of travelers.

Occea Pass was once more quiet. There were other roads the traders took that brought them close to towns and villages where they could barter their goods. Ganondorf overtook one of the few travelers on the road only to have the woman call out at him.

“Isn’t he with you, my lord?” she asked, pointing behind her. Ganondorf followed her finger and saw Epona stopped further back. Ganondorf thanked the woman and turned around.

“Good girl,” Ganondorf praised with a pat to Epona’s neck once he had walked up to her. The mare was used to him by now and didn’t bite or pull away when he tied a lead to her bridle. Link mumbled a few words while Ganondorf worked. His shoulders were slumped, and his head was bowed with eyes closed. “All that stress and swimming tuckered him out, eh girl?” Ganondorf murmured. He patted Epona’s nose and carried the other end of the lead with him back to Torrent.

The checkpoint sconces at the start of Occea Pass revealed a small party of four soldiers and a Sheikah woman Ganondorf recognized as Impa, nurse and protector for Princess Zelda. They were all on horseback, standing in a loose half circle on the Hyrule Field side of the gate. The soldiers stationed at the checkpoint closed in behind Epona once she was clear of the gate. The mare gave an anxious whinny, and Link stirred.

“Master Rusl, I got a bull’s-eye,” Link said as he raised his head. He blinked and took in Ganondorf’s anxious face looking back at him. The rest of the dark field fell into place, and Link spun Epona around. The lead limited her movements, and she reared a little with a whinny.

“Easy!” Ganondorf urged Link. He untied the lead from his saddle horn. Link turned Epona fully around to watch the soldiers behind him. His hand went to the sword lashed amidst his saddlebags, but he didn’t yet pull it out. “I’m sure there’s a misunderstanding here,” Ganondorf said once he was sure Link was more or less settled. He cast a charming smile at Impa.

The Sheikan woman drew herself up in her saddle. “Lord Ganondorf, the castle received word today that you have threatened the crown.”

Ganondorf understood now, and he laughed a little. “’Threatened the crown’? Is that what they’re calling a joke nowadays?”

The soldiers around Impa shifted atop their mounts. “A joke, my lord?” Impa repeated. “You claimed you would put a sword through King Daphnes’s heart.”

“Lady Impa, with all due respect, do you know how many people I hear on a daily basis complaining about the Royal Family?” Ganondorf asked. “Who claim that they would make a better king? Who go on and on about ruling this land and that land, and getting back at everyone who so much as looked at them wrong?” He glanced at the arranged soldiers. “Are you telling me all the Royal Army cares about these days is weeding out anyone who grumbles about the Royal Family?”

_“Dazest all guot per peuparun,”_ Link spoke up. He had relaxed his hand, yet now his eyes were out to his right, searching the dark expanse of field and sky as if something had caught his attention.

Impa spared Link an annoyed look, but didn’t acknowledge his remark. “You are not just anyone,” she said to Ganondorf, dropping all propriety.

“The same applies to you,” the Gerudo king returned. “Why are you out here for such a minor matter when a captain of the guard would do? Isn’t your place by Princess Zelda’s side?”

“My place is where I say it is,” Impa shot back.

Ganondorf cocked his thumb back over his shoulder. “It’s about this one, isn’t it? Him traveling with me? Do you think I’m a bad influence?” He spread his arms and waved one of them over Link’s head at the checkpoint. “We just took a trip to the coast to stretch our wings. And we had a great time, relaxing, seeing the sights, and laughing as if we’d known each other for years. All I did was make sure our mutual friend was able to experience all that. If I pricked a few nerves while doing so, I apologize. But none of us would be here having this conversation, Lady Impa, if your soldiers were a bit more lax in letting this young man out of his cage once in a while.”

Impa frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“The soldiers won’t let him through any of the checkpoints on the borders,” Ganondorf clarified.

Impa frowned deeper and looked past Ganondorf. “Is this true?” she asked Link. He spared her the barest of sidelong looks. “Is this true?” Impa asked again, this time to the soldiers in front of Epona. They shared nervous glances. One of them nodded.

“Lady Impa,” Ganondorf spoke up before the Sheikah could tear into her men, “if I was that much trouble in my good intentions, then by all means take me in for questioning or imprisonment or whatever you’d like. I’ll raise no protest. I’m always happy to follow a beautiful woman.”

“Flattery doesn’t work on me,” Impa snapped with narrow eyes. Her expression tensed when the soldiers around her and in front of Epona all raised their respective weapons towards Link. Epona snorted and danced on her hooves.

“What is it?” Impa asked. Link had taken his bow in hand. His eyes were fixed on a distant point while his free hand stroked calm back into Epona.

Ganondorf saw a burst of pink sparks against the cloaked field, a far distance away. A crackling sound came over the stretch after a second’s delay. “Ah, it’s your little friend,” he said to Link, smiling. “Didn’t I tell you it would keep?”

“I knew it!” one of Impa’s soldiers spat through a thick, tobacco-stained mustache. “He’s the cause of that thing that’s been running around these past two days!”

“It hasn’t done any harm,” Ganondorf growled at the man.

“What do we do about it?” spoke up a dark-haired, female soldier. “It runs away before anyone can get near enough to attack, and arrows are no good against it.”

“You’re not serious,” laughed a checkpoint guard, drawing everyone’s attention. Link, in the process of notching his specialized arrow, paused to look at the man. “You won’t hit that thing from here,” the man continued. “Not at this distance. Not with that bulky arrow.”

Seeing an opportunity, the mustached soldier’s earlier, hostile demeanor evaporated into enthusiasm, and he put forth, “Twenty rupees says he misses!” Two other soldiers echoed him. Link cast Ganondorf an exasperated look that the Gerudo met with a grin.

“Fifty says he hits it,” the dark-haired soldier betted. She looked to Impa, but the Sheikah shook her head, refusing to participate.

Ganondorf sat up straighter and looked at the gathered soldiers. “Any other bets?” he called. No one answered.

Link notched the arrow and took a full three seconds to draw the bowstring back. The creak of the straining bow was the only sound save for the distant crackling of his target. Ganondorf caught on to the dramatic effect; he heard Impa scoff and knew she had as well. The soldiers around them, however, were tense with anticipation. They couldn’t help but gasp when Link triggered the arrowhead’s unique extension. The blue light its blade cast off fell across him and those nearest, abolishing the checkpoint’s firelight with its sharper glow.

One of the soldiers laughed. “That glare isn’t doing him any favors in this dark. You’re buying our drinks tonight, Ashei.”

“He hasn’t fired yet,” the dark-haired woman returned in a cool voice.

“Hush,” Impa snapped. Her eyes hadn’t yet moved from Link since he first drew the bow.

The distant monster crackled twice more while Link made minor adjustments to his aim. At the third crackle, the arrow was released. It was easy for the spectators to trace the blue arcing line through the dark as the arrow streaked towards the monster. When the arrow struck, there was a flash of crackling light and a brilliant smear of blue and pink color splashed up against the dark horizon. It lasted several seconds before fading to black.

Ashei clapped her hands while her fellows looked on, glowering. “Looks like _I’m_ the one drinking well tonight, boys,” she crowed. The men handed over their lost bets with heavy grumbling.

_“Bleufarwe,_ wait a moment!” Impa called. Link had taken off to retrieve his arrow. The Sheikah sighed when he didn’t heed her. “All right, that’s enough,” she added to her soldiers. Her words cut off the men’s grousing. “You may all return to Castle Town. Lord Ganondorf, I will overlook your _joke_ this time. Now if you would, please wait a moment for me. I would like to ride a ways with you.”

“I am yours to command, Lady Impa,” Ganondorf said with a bow of his head.

Impa gave no response to that. She spurred her horse after Link. She lit a lantern along the way, and the Hylian emerged from the darkness after a half-minute’s ride. Impa halted her horse and asked, “Why did you never say anything?”

Link straightened up with a sigh. He busied himself with replacing his specialized arrow into its place amongst Epona’s saddlebags. The moonlight made the job easier than he wanted. Too soon he was forced to acknowledge Impa with a glance. The remains of the small monster at his feet sparked one last time before falling still. He stomped on it for good measure.

Impa tried once more to engage him. “Link, if you were having trouble getting through checkpoints, why didn’t you come to me? Or to Princess Zelda? You know it would have taken only one word from either of us to change things. Then you wouldn’t have to rely on people like Ganondorf. It’s unwise to trust him so much so early,” she added quickly, seeing anger come across Link’s face. “I can see in the way you two acted back there that you told him as much in one week as I got out of you in a year.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Link reminded her in a snappish tone. “You want me to talk and make friends.”

“I want you to be happy,” Impa corrected. “If you’re content with not speaking, that’s fine. It doesn’t suit me, but I accept it when you refuse to talk because I always hope your silence satisfies you. But don’t throw all caution to the wind just because someone extends a hand. The Gerudo were once enemies of Hyrule. For the Goddesses’ sakes, Ganondorf’s idea of a joke is to threaten regicide! If you must be friends with him, at least be smart about it. Stay aware.”

Link scoffed and swung himself up into his saddle. He was about to ride off when he stopped and turned Epona around. Impa watched him rummage through a bag, eventually pulling out two conch shells. “For you,” he said, meek once more, as he handed over one of the shells. “And for Princess Zelda, along with my apology.” He handed Impa the second conch.

Impa accepted the shells with thanks and stowed them away. “I will pass on the gift, but not the apology,” she told Link. “You must tell Princess Zelda that yourself.”

Link frowned but said nothing to that. He departed without any more words and disappeared into the gloom of the night. The Sheikah was left to make her way back to the circle of firelight alone. The soldiers were either gone or returned to their stations at the checkpoint, yet Ganondorf was waiting for her, as he had promised.

“Let me guess: He didn’t want to join us?” Ganondorf asked the Sheikah. Impa didn’t answer. She directed her horse to the start of the road and Ganondorf followed her, riding alongside. Although the moonlight was bright, Ganondorf coaxed a ball of light into his hand that provided a better shine.

Impa eyed the sorcery with a wary eye. “So tell me about this trip to the coast. It’s a rare thing nowadays to hear _Bleufarwe_ laugh. How did you manage that?”

“I threw him into the sea,” Ganondorf replied. “Literally tossed him in there.” He mimed heaving a heavy load and laughed. “You would have been in stitches, seeing his face and his arms going every which way.” Ganondorf waggled his free arm and uttered a small, high-pitched impression of Link crying out before laughing again.

Impa’s face told the Gerudo she was either confused or unimpressed by the charade. “What are your plans for him?” she asked.

Ganondorf’s mirth evaporated. “What makes you think I have plans for him?”

Impa waved a hand back at the checkpoint falling behind. “You take him to the coast--why? To show him something better than a life here?”

“If your people treated him better, there would be nothing to show,” Ganondorf pointed out. He scowled. _“Dark Harbinger, Monster Bringer, Silent Ruin._ Tell me, how many people know his real name?”

Impa paused before answering. She had to be careful. She could see now why Link had opened up to this Gerudo king. The man had a natural charm that made it too easy to talk to him. Yet he didn’t appear to consciously convey it, and that made Impa wonder how persuasive the man could be if he truly applied himself. Still… Opening up to Ganondorf might encourage him to do the same and reveal whatever ulterior motives he was hiding.

Impa sighed and relaxed her tense shoulders. “Those names, terrible as they are, are not exaggerations,” she said. Ganondorf relaxed his scowl and listened as she continued, “Monsters have always had a strange attraction to Link. When I found him in the castle gardens more than ten years ago, he was covered in monster blood and there were keese flying about him. Throughout his life, Link has attracted monsters that either attacked him, or wreaked havoc and terror around him. A moldarach attacked him and his mentor, Master Rusl, in the field one day, and one of the younger arachas with it stung Rusl, poisoning and killing him.”

“I thought you were his mentor,” Ganondorf spoke up.

Impa shook her head. “Only in part. Rusl was more the mentor than me. And Link did so well once someone spared the time for him. I couldn’t help him as much, as I had to split my days between a growing princess and a barrack full of soldiers. Rusl had the time. He kept Link focused, and _Bleufarwe_ took to archery and swordplay like a fish to water. There were still monster sightings, but things were good--until the moldarach. Not long after that, Link left the castle. It was hard for me to see him go.” She looked to Ganondorf and the sorrow in her face hardened into suspicion. “So I ask again, Lord Ganondorf: What are your plans for him?”

The riders had reached a fork in the road. Impa took the road to the right whereas Ganondorf turned his steed to the left. He looked to Impa across the small space that had grown between them, and a peculiar expression came to his face. “Maybe I want to know what it feels like to be the hero for once,” he said. Impa frowned at that. “Have a good night,” Ganondorf added, and he trotted away. The orb of light winked out.

#

It was a quarter-hour into the third go-around of the day. Link sidestepped to the right, following the curve of the ring. The scrape of his bare foot against the rough ground was echoed by his opponent’s. Aside from these sounds, there was very little noise in the room. The spectators--all Gorons--were silent, moving little and only when a fist swung out. At these times, there were a few seconds of hand gestures and pats against the ground shared between the Gorons. Hylian was spoken and written fluently by the Goron race, yet their native tongue was something that could never be transcribed, as it was guttural and largely comprised of body movements. For this reason, the arts of painting and oral tradition were strong within the race’s history.

While the Gorons shifted on the edge of the ring, Link flexed the fingers of his raised fists. Only nine of the ten rose and fell. He moved in and swung at his Goron opponent. The fist passed through the Goron’s copious mane of hair, and Link immediately ducked, knowing what was coming. A fist large and powerful enough to crumple a man’s entire ribcage swept over his head and passed through his ponytail.

“You’re learning, Brother,” Darunia complimented with a smirk. He put some space between himself and Link.

Link smirked too and felt the bruise on his cheek twinge with the act. All of the Gorons called him ‘Brother’, which was an honorary title within the race. They, unlike most of Hyrule, appreciated Link’s monster hunting efforts, especially when those efforts rid them of the dodongos in the cave where they found their favorite rocks to eat. In the past three weeks, Link had put aside their usual reward of rupees in favor of the opportunity to learn some hand-to-hand combat--a specialty of the Goron race.

Darunia, the Goron Elder, was pulling his punches--he had to, as Link wasn’t half-made of stone like a Goron--but the blows still hurt whenever they landed. Link took a strange delight in the feeling of the hits. Ganondorf had recommended taking up the lessons as a stress reliever (“It’s a lot healthier than drowning yourself,” were his exact words), and Link had to admit the fighting was helping him to let off steam when swimming in the Zora River didn’t do the job.

The coast was the better option at such times when emotions boiled too close to the surface. However, despite Impa’s all clear to the soldiers for Link to move through checkpoints, the stationed men and women still gave him a hard time if he attempted to go to the coast. The delay, hassle, and snide remarks before clearance was granted weren’t worth the trip the first time Link went alone, and he doubted things were bound to change soon.

Link studied Darunia’s dance-like movements across the ring (the Gorons moved with grace despite their top-heavy bodies) and moved in when he saw an opportunity. He dodged Darunia’s grab attempt with another duck and moved around the Goron to swing a strong arm at his back. When his forearm struck the expanse of rock that made up Darunia’s back, it was as if… Well, as if hitting a rock. The blow had no effect, but Link hadn’t expected it to. Instead, he waited for Darunia to turn at the touch of the blow and swept back around while his opponent was looking backward. His fist went for the Goron’s softer belly.

Darunia tucked into himself too fast for Link to react. In an instant, the vulnerable belly was hidden by the plate of rock on the Goron’s back. Link’s fist connected, and another finger broke. He stepped back, hissing in pain. A thin, brown leg swept his feet out from beneath him, and he went down hard where he cracked his head on the ground. The Sheikan curse that came to Link’s tongue left him in a puff of lost breath when Darunia sat down on his gut. He held just enough weight off not to crush the softer Hylian.

“Do you yield?” Darunia asked through a gentle smile. Link sneered but nodded. “That was a good match, Brother!” Darunia complimented. He stood up and helped Link to his feet. “You retained consciousness this time.”

The assembled spectators laughed. Link smiled for them and took up a new starting position.

Darunia shook his head. “No, Brother, that’s enough for today. You must heal.”

“I’m fine,” Link insisted. “I can go to the fairy fountain. It’s a short climb away.”

“No, Brother,” Darunia repeated in a graver tone. “I don’t mean just physically. You need mental rest as well. You must learn to let things go. A loss is just an opportunity to learn.” Darunia took up Link’s uninjured hand and forced it into a shake. “It was a good set of matches, Brother. Come back in a week. Ah, and your fingers…” The Goron waggled his thicker set. “It’s your tell.”

There was no arguing with Darunia. The Goron was strong enough to snap off all of Link’s limbs and toss the pieces into Death Mountain Crater. Link bowed his respect and thanks to the Elder, gathered his boots, and set off for the nearby fairy fountain.

A ten minute soak in the fairy fountain’s magically therapeutic water healed Link’s bruises and snapped his finger bones back into place. With his body whole once more, he set off on the long walk down Death Mountain Path. Earlier, Epona was left behind at the base of the mountain, as the path was too narrow and steep at many points for her to traverse it. Link had left her alone to graze along with a few apples to keep her happy about his absence. However, she wasn’t alone when he returned to her.

“Hey!” Malon called when Link walked into her sight. She raised her hand in an enthusiastic wave.

Link paused for half a heartbeat before continuing on towards her. Epona was getting along with Malon’s mare. The horse doctor waved at them once Link was in front of her. “I saw Epona alone and I got concerned because I didn’t see you anywhere.” She looked around at the sparse landscape at Death Mountain’s foot. “But you look okay,” she said as she turned back to him. “Oh, so you kept the scar, huh?” Link’s hand went up to his cheek where a paler line of skin marred it. Malon smiled at that. “It looks okay,” she said. “Gives you a rugged look that the fading clothes and mussed hair don’t cover.”

Link pressed his lips together and reminded himself to get into contact with Impa about the new set of clothes she had promised him nearly a month ago.

Malon laughed at his expression. “Come on, I’m only trying to get a rise out of you. Do I get a hello, at least? No?”

Link had something else for her. He walked over to the saddlebags he had taken off of Epona and dug out one of the remaining conch shells from his trip to the coast. Malon’s face lit up when he presented it to her.

“Oh, it’s beautiful. Thank you, Link! I was to the coast only once, when I was a kid. I have to go again sometime. I miss the sea.” Malon raised the mouth of the shell to her ear and closed her eyes. “Mmmm, just like I remember.” Malon opened her eyes and saw Link’s quizzical face. “Didn’t you know you can hear the sea inside these shells?” Link shook his head. “Here, listen.” Malon raised the shell to his ear.

Link closed his eyes and listened to the low, hollow roar inside the shell. With a small stretch of his imagination, he could hear the crash and hiss of incoming waves within the sound.

“It’s nice, right?” Malon asked after she took the shell away. Link nodded. “So I have to confess something,” Malon picked up. “I was actually looking for you. A Goron in Castle Town told me you were frequenting his city, so I decided to ride out here in hopes of running into you. I…” She stopped, frowned, and looked past Link. At the same time, Link heard the horses snort and whinny. “What is that?” Malon asked with some apprehension. She pointed towards the start of Death Mountain Path.

Link turned around and saw what had caught her attention: a dust cloud. His sharper eyes picked out a dozen helmasaurs and one larger helmasaurus amongst them. The herd was moving straight for him and Malon. “They followed me,” he murmured.

“No, I’m sure it’s a coincidence,” Malon rushed to reassure him. She screamed the next moment when the first of the smaller helmasaurs ran by. The horses bolted, getting clear of the path of the monsters. “No, wait--” Malon went to chase after them.

Link got an arm around Malon and pulled her close to him. She stood on tense feet and watched the helmasaurs run past on either side. They were grey-brown in color with piggish features. The bulk of their bodies were reinforced by pockmarked plates of metal. (The latter was a result of the monsters’ fondness for using Hylian-made iron and steel to adorn themselves before ramming each other to establish territory or mates. One of an apprentice blacksmith’s first lessons was to keep their in-progress weapons and armor up high during the night.)

The helmasaurs had no interest in the Hylians in their path. They ran past, squealing and kicking up dust to add to the cloud in their wake. They were heading for a road that cut through the forest a quarter-mile away. When the last helmasaur was past, the larger helmasaurus trotted by. It was easily five times the size and weight of its smaller fellows. Its skin was thicker and greyer, and its head was reinforced by a natural crest of heavy, dark bone.

Malon shrunk against Link’s side when the helmasaurus paused to look at her and Link. Its left green eye studied them from within the shadow of its crest, and its wide mouth moved in a chewing motion. Link had his short blade on him, but to draw it out and threaten the monster would only encourage it to attack. He stood still and met the helmasaurus’s eye with an unblinking gaze.

The helmasaurus snorted and trotted off. It picked up speed in a few strides and was soon gone down the same road the helmasaurs had taken. Link relaxed and dropped his arm from Malon’s shoulders. She didn’t release him however, and her hands pulled at his tunic.

“Link, that road leads to Ordon.” Malon saw the realization come to Link’s eyes, and her face paled. “Can you stop them?”

Link broke away from Malon, whistled shrilly, and fell to pulling the weapons he would need from the saddlebags lumped together on the ground. Malon watched him pick out quivers and his bow with growing dread. What were arrows going to do against the heavy plates of the monsters? “Can you stop them?” she asked again.

Link turned his head and whistled a second time. A distant whinny answered, and Epona appeared over a rise seconds later. She galloped to him and slid to a stop. Link lashed the bomb arrow quiver and his sheathed sword onto her back. A second quiver and his short blade were already belted on his body. After he mounted the saddle, Malon handed up the bow he had forgotten. Link spared her a reassuring smile before riding off.

The helmasaurs had left a clear trail of footprints along the road to Ordon. The set of deeper, wider footprints amongst them told Link the helmasaurus had followed the same path. He spurred Epona faster along the tree-shadowed road, and all too soon he heard distant screams of terror. A man with an abundance of hair pointed him down a left fork in the road, and Link took it. The screams came clearer. Epona flew past a spring and thundered over a wooden bridge.

More people screamed when Epona charged into the small village of Ordon. The helmasaurs were wreaking havoc amongst the crowded buildings and the panicked people. Link spied a sluggish one passing him by. He pulled Epona to a stop, notched and aimed an arrow, and fired. The arrowhead found the inch of exposed spine beneath the monster’s artificial plate. It dropped to its stomach with a squeal of pain, paralyzed. A brave villager finished it off with a meat cleaver.

_“Help! Someone help!”_

The familiar voice pulled at Link’s ears. He raised his head and looked towards the sound to find a young, blonde boy surrounded by five encroaching helmasaurs. Link drew out a bomb arrow and spurred Epona towards the boy. The mare blazed between two helmasaurs, and Link leaned down to scoop up the boy in his arm. He had only a few seconds to get the boy settled in the saddle before he had to turn and shoot the fizzling bomb arrow. It struck the group of helmasaurs just as the fuse reached the black powder and the monsters were scattered, broken and dead.

“Okay, Colin?” Link asked the boy clinging to him. He felt a nod against his chest.

A group of villagers were huddled together on a shelf of high rock cut into one of Ordon Village’s natural walls. Four more helmasaurs paced and reared up against the base of the shelf. Their eyes and movements spoke of blind rage. Link couldn’t risk a bomb arrow so close to the villagers, so he used Epona to scatter the monsters before picking them off with his arrows, paralyzing each one. With the immediate danger past, Colin was handed up to the villagers, and Link cast his eyes out over the area for the remaining monsters.

A field of pumpkins was the newest victim. The last two helmasaurs were ramming each other amongst the crop. Each clanging impact added to the pockmarked state of their plates, and scattered rind and pulp. They had no interest in the retreating villagers, and they didn’t spare Link a glance when he rode up to them. He hung down from the saddle and slashed at their vulnerable rears with his short blade, ending the monsters’ rampages. With the last of the helmasaurs dead, Link straightened up in his saddle and rode Epona into the middle of the village. He looked for the helmasaurus, but it was nowhere in sight. The village was quiet save for the paralyzed monsters’ squeals and the huddling villagers’ breaths.

The ground trembled, and Epona whinnied. She spun in place until Link regained control. His eyes found a herd of Ordon goats stampeding down a path on the far side of the village. The goats rushed by on either side of Epona, and it was all Link could do to keep her steady. The goats’ fear was palpable even to him. He had a feeling he knew what was about to come down the path next.

Epona reared when the thundering footfalls of the helmasaurus replaced the lighter thud of the goat herd. Link grabbed for a handhold too late and hit the dirt. His mare got off the path in time to avoid the charging helmasaurus. It struck Link instead with a glancing blow, knocking the Hylian off his feet only a second after he had gained them.

Link rolled off the path and curled up with a groan of pain. He pressed gently at his struck ribs. They panged, but not in a broken way. Or so he hoped. There was no time to worry either way. Link forced himself onto his feet and whistled for Epona. While he waited for his mare to make her skittish way towards him, his eyes caught a loop of rope hanging from the side of a house.

The helmasaurus had continued on into a rise of rock that its poor eyesight and rage had prevented it from seeing. The monster took its time turning around. Its eyes found Link, once more in the saddle, and it charged at Epona. Link jerked the mare out of the way in the last few seconds and tossed out the lasso he had tied. The rope fell over one of the protrusions of the helmasaurus’s crest, and Link pulled the knot tight. It was impossible to pull the crest off, as it grew out of the monster’s very head, but he could at least draw the helmasaurus close enough for an attack. He began to wind the rope around his left arm to shorten it.

Link’s ribs grumbled with pain when the helmasaurus’s tug jerked him in the saddle. Epona’s nostrils were wide with the thick scent of the helmasaurus, and her body trembled beneath Link in fear. Few monsters affected the mare this way, but Link knew how to handle her when it happened. He whistled low and long, and Epona took the cue to begin backing up. Link continued whistling commands, switching them up so that Epona was forced to pay more attention to him than to her flight instinct. The mare sidestepped to the left and to the right, and backed up or moved in as Link willed her; all while he shortened the rope with slow pulls.

The helmasaurus squealed, roared, and attempted to break free. Link expected the rope to snap at any second, but it held with only minimal fraying as the monster tugged and backtracked. The helmasaurus had no power when it backed up or pulled. All of its strength and weight were used better when moving forward, but the monster wasn’t smart enough to think past the rope, and so it never charged.

Link shortened the rope as much as he could without putting Epona into danger. He held the helmasaurus there with the rope straining around his left arm while he pulled out his sword with his right hand. The window would be small--a second or two at most. He gave one last pull of the rope and then let go. The helmasaurus, pulling in the opposite direction, staggered back two steps with a surprised squeal.

Link was already in the air, having cued Epona into a buck that gave him the extra push he needed to vault her head and leap the distance to the helmasaurus. His sword was the only weapon in his arsenal capable of piercing the helmasaurus’s hide. He brought it down behind the monster’s crest, driving it with his falling weight. Unlike its fellows, the majority of the helmasaurus’s back was exposed. The blade sunk in, and its length slipped past the levels of hide, fat, and muscle to pierce the monster’s hidden heart.

A small, abrupt squeal was the last sound the helmasaurus made. Link, crouched on its back, felt the life leave it in a violent shudder. After a few still seconds, the helmasaurus lowered itself to its stomach as if laying down for a rest, and didn’t move again.

Link’s ribs were protesting in the wake of his down-strike. He dropped his shoulders down against the helmasaurus’s broad back and stretched out with a grimace of pain. The heat was leaving the monster already, but for the moment the rage-flushed skin felt good against the Hylian’s body.

“He brought those monsters here! Get him!”

Hands seized Link’s tunic and dragged him down from the dead helmasaurus. He hit the ground hard, and the pain in his side spiked. People were yelling above him. He rolled to the side in time to avoid being punctured by a rake’s curved teeth. They bit into his tunic, tearing it, and Link rolled into the helmasaurus’s side. There was nowhere else for him to go. He looked up into the angry faces closing in on him while he fumbled for the short blade at his back.

_“Leave him alone!”_

A grey mare ran by and scattered the villagers. With the way clear, Link wasted no time gaining his feet and whistling for Epona. She hurried to him, and he took hold of her reins to keep her close. His body was tense, ready to leap into the saddle at any moment.

Malon was atop her grey mare, which was laden down with Link’s abandoned saddlebags. She turned the mare around and approached the villagers once more, this time at a slower pace. They backed away and drew close together while Malon stopped her horse beside Epona.

“Thank you,” Malon snapped down at the gathered villagers. “That’s what you say to someone when they get rid of a menace in your village. You don’t attack them!”

One of the male villagers pointed to Link. “He brought the monsters in the first place!” Others echoed his words. Link’s hands rose to his neck only to remember that he had taken off his hooded cloak weeks ago. It was still somewhere in the midst of his saddlebags. He compensated by hiding as much of his face as he could behind Epona’s wide head.

Malon waved a hand at the dead and paralyzed helmasaurs scattered about the village. “Do you know what kind of a boon you have here?” she asked the villagers. “Helmasaur meat is as good as pork. And those plates they’re wearing? That’s good steel and iron. And _that.”_ She pointed her finger at the larger helmasaurus at Link’s back. “Do you know how high a demand there is for helmasaurus bone for use in weapon making? Weapon and armor merchants will claw each others’ eyes out to bid on that thing’s crest. In that helmasaurus alone, there’s easily ten times the amount of rupees that you’ll need to fix the minor damage the other monsters caused. And you have him to thank for it.” Malon pointed her finger to Link last before dropping her hand.

The villagers said nothing to Malon’s short tirade. A few looks were passed, glares were shot at Link, and on a silent cue the crowd broke apart. Some of the villagers formed a small group that went around collecting the helmasaur corpses and plates, and finishing off the monsters that were still alive. A second group headed for the helmasaurus. Link moved away from them and the corpse on quick feet, pulling Epona with him.

“Your sword,” Malon reminded him. Link darted forward and yanked out the sword from the helmasaurus’s back before too many of the villagers crowded around. Black monster blood slicked the blade, and he fell to cleaning it with a scrap of fabric torn from his ruined tunic.

“Link!” called a voice. Link looked up and watched Colin run towards him. “That was amazing, Link!” the boy exclaimed, his eyes wide. “That was really--” He broke off into a coughing fit. Link dropped to his knees and put the sword aside in order to place his hands on Colin’s shoulders. The fit passed quickly, and Colin looked up with a smile. “Awesome,” he finished.

Link sighed, shook his head, and stood up. He staggered back a step, and his hand went to his side before he could think to hide his pain. He had to resist the urge to pull away when both Malon and Colin reached out to support him. They were only concerned; he knew that. Yet Colin’s next words were anything but reassuring.

“I’ll get my mom, Link!” The boy rushed off before Link could stop him. He ran up a small hill edged by a stream and disappeared into the house at the top of it.

Malon caught the apprehension in Link’s face, and she asked, “Something wrong?”

“Uli,” Link replied. The words were heavy in his mouth. “My late mentor’s widow.”

“Is that bad?” Malon asked next.

At the hilltop house, a middle-aged woman had appeared on the porch with Colin and a younger girl standing beside her. Link pressed his lips together and didn’t answer.

##########

**Translations:**

_“Dazest all guot per peuparun,”:_ [Sheikan] “That’s all they’re good for."


	7. Familial Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Link spends some time with his late mentor's family. He also receives an invitation, prompting a visit to a place he would rather avoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support of this fanfiction. You're all awesome.
> 
> One term of endearment is spoken in Sheikan in this chapter; the translation is at the end, should you want to read it.
> 
> Questions, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are all welcomed and appreciated from both AO3 users and guests. Please enjoy, thank you.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Familial Ties

Looking up at his late mentor’s family, Link felt his gut sink behind his throbbing ribs. He could see Malon in the corner of his eye, looking at him in confusion. Likely she couldn’t understand why the sight of the middle-aged woman and her two children were igniting the anxiety in Link’s face. He didn’t appease her curiosity; he waited to see if Uli would disappear back into her house.

Before anyone else could move, the young girl broke away from her mother and ran down the hill towards Link. Uli shouted, “Neve, be careful!” before making her slower way down the hill with Colin at her side.

Neve dodged around busy villagers and monster corpses, calling, _“Liiiiiink!”_ the whole way. Malon put her at five years old; roughly half her brother’s age. She shared the same blue eyes and light blonde hair as Colin, although the latter was considerably longer than the boy’s, falling halfway down the back. It bounced in a wave behind Neve’s head when she leapt the narrow stream at the base of the hill. 

Neve opened her arms upon reaching Link. Malon was about to stop her, but the warning died on her lips when Link crouched, put aside his sword, and picked the girl up. A twitch in his eyebrow was the only hint of the pain he felt when he straightened up with Neve in his arms. 

“Link, Link, did you get all the monsters?” Neve asked with eyes wide in astonishment. Link nodded and smiled. “Oh, wow!” Neve wrapped her arms around Link’s neck and laid her head against his shoulder. “I missed you,” she said into his tunic.

Link hugged her closer and rubbed her back. His hand stilled when Uli and Colin came to a stop in front of him and Malon. Neve was lowered to the ground; she skipped out of Link’s arms and went to her mother. Even at her young age, she could feel the tension between Uli and Link. She took hold of her mother’s shirt hem and pressed close. 

Like her children, Uli had blonde hair and blue eyes. The latter swept up and down Link, taking in the sword in his hand and the stance that once more hinted at the pain in his ribs. A look was spared for Malon as well. “My late husband’s sword suits you well, Link,” Uli remarked when her inspection was complete.

Link looked away. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he turned around and slid the sword back into its sheath on Epona’s back.

“Thank you for saving Colin, as well as the rest of the village,” Uli continued. Her words had some hardness to them, but there was compassion as well. “Are you injured?” Her eyes went to the blooming bruise peeking through the tears in Link’s clothes.

Malon could see the denial preparing itself on Link’s face. She cut in before he could express it, saying, “He is, actually. Do you have anything that could help? Even if it’s just enough to hold him over until he can get to a fairy fountain.”

Uli looked to her son. “Colin, will you help Link up the hill?” Colin nodded. “Come on, Neve.” Uli turned her daughter around and began to walk away.

Neve looked back. “Is Link coming too?” she asked. Her mother nodded and urged her to move a little faster, as she was dragging her feet.

Link secured Epona to a fence and allowed Colin and Malon to escort him up the hill. He didn’t rely on them for support, but they stayed close regardless. Colin opened the door once they reached the house, revealing a cozy main room. In the adjoining kitchen, a pot of water was already simmering on the stovetop with tealeaves and empty cups waiting nearby. Uli removed the pillows from the sofa and directed Link to lie down. After pulling off his short blade and quiver, he eased himself down onto the cushions with the most pronounced grimace that he had shown so far. 

Uli disappeared into a side room. She reemerged a minute later with her hands full. “I have red salve for the pain and bandages to bind the ribs.”

“I can do that,” Malon volunteered. “Not much different from wrapping a horse’s leg.” 

Uli handed her the supplies and walked over to Link. “Give me your shirt and tunic,” she commanded. Link worked the clothes up over his head with slow care and gave them to her. He fell back against the cushions with a sigh and held a hand out to Malon for the red salve jar. 

Malon shook her head and knelt down by the sofa. “I don’t think so, hero. Relax and let other people take care of you for once. Besides, I’m a doctor. Of sorts.” She brightened when Link closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. His nostrils flared with a hard exhale. “That’s better. Good boy.” Link’s eyes snapped open, and he glared at her. “Oops, force of habit from working with animals,” Malon explained with an unconvincing smile. 

Neve went up to Malon’s side and watched the older woman coat Link’s bruising with the salve. “Can I help?” she asked. Malon dabbed a small dollop onto the girl’s fingertips and directed her on how to spread it over the skin. When Neve pressed too hard, Link flinched away with a hiss. “Sorry,” the girl mumbled.

Link shook his head to dismiss the apology and relaxed again. He beckoned Neve closer to his head and distracted both her and himself by pretending to steal her nose. In the kitchen, the teapot whistled. Uli’s and Colin’s voices mingled with the sound of clattering cups. 

Malon put aside the red salve jar and wiped the remaining residue from her fingers onto her pants. “Okay, sit up now,” she directed. Neve backed away as Link pushed himself up. “Don’t worry, I’m a lot faster at this part,” Malon promised him. Her hands worked with practiced ease, first holding the loose end of the bandages to Link’s side and then wrapping the roll around his chest twice to secure it. With both hands now free, she moved quicker, winding the bandages around his ribs several times. She secured the other loose end with a safety pin that Uli had provided with the supplies. “How does that feel? Can you breathe okay?” Link sucked in a deep breath, winced at a shot of pain, but nodded. “The salve should kick in soon,” Malon promised him.

The tea was carried into the main room, and Colin handed the cups out. Neve had only milk in hers; she sat down next to Link and offered him a sip of it, but he refused. Across the room, Uli sat down in a chair with Link’s tunic and undershirt. She began to sew patches over the tears, pulling scraps of blue and white fabric from a seemingly bottomless sewing basket. 

Malon took a seat at the end of the sofa with Colin between her and Link. She sipped at her tea and watched Uli work. The space and silence between the older woman and the rest of the people in the room irked Malon. The tension was still there as well. She lowered her cup to her lap and broke the quiet by asking, “So how does Link know you all?”

Link choked on his current sip of tea. The look he cast Malon was the desperate one of a man facing certain death. She ignored it and looked between Uli, who hadn’t looked up from her work, and Colin, who was glancing between his mother and Link.

Neve was the one to answer, brimming with her innocent enthusiasm. “Link knew my daddy!”

“Oh?” Malon smiled at her. “How so?”

“Dad taught Link how to fight and shoot a bow,” Colin picked up in his quiet voice. “He was a soldier in the Royal Army. He trained other soldiers.”

Neve kicked her feet against the base of the sofa. “I didn’t know my daddy,” she said with downcast eyes. “He went to the Sacred Realm when I was a baby.”

Link put aside his teacup and gained his feet as fast as he could with his bruised ribs.

“Sit,” Uli ordered without looking up. Link obliged, although he didn’t look at all happy. “The villagers are still angry with you. Do you want to go out there alone and face them so soon?” Link shook his head. “Drink your tea,” Uli commanded next. “It is good for you.” Link took up his cup once more.

Rather than easing, the tension in the room had spiked. “I’m sorry,” Malon rushed out. “I didn’t know it was a sensitive subject. Just forget I asked.”

“He died because of me,” Link spoke up in a soft voice. “That’s all that matters.”

Malon waited for Uli to refute the claim, but the woman started a new patch on Link’s undershirt without a word. Colin was looking almost ill. Malon searched for something to save the conversation. “Hey,” she said, speaking to Uli. “Is there any chance I can buy some Ordon cheese before I leave? My father loves that stuff.”

“That should not be a problem.” Uli looked up and smiled at her. “I am involved in its making. I will give you a round as a gift for your help today.”

“Oh, but… I didn’t do anything to help.”

“You saved Link from what would have been a severe beating, and you saw to his injury. That is more than enough to earn a gift.”

“Oh?” Malon forced a laugh. “For a minute there I thought I had done something wrong by saving him.”

Colin jumped off the sofa and hurried down a short hall off of the main room. He returned with something hidden behind his back and an almost sneaky expression on his face. “Link, do you want to see what I got at the general store?” Colin asked, and Link raised his eyebrows in question. “Ta-da!” Colin pulled a slingshot and a bag of Deku seeds from behind his back. Neve got to her feet and squealed at the sight of it. 

“Fado put up the targets for you yesterday,” Uli told her son. “Why not take Link and Neve out to the back and practice? The villagers should not bother you in my own backyard,” she added to Link.

Link allowed Colin and Neve to pull him out the front door. Once it closed on their backs, Uli visibly relaxed. Her needle--while quick already--moved faster along the edges of the patches. She finished the undershirt and moved on to the tunic. “So you are a horse doctor?” Uli asked Malon. “That is what I gathered.”

Malon nodded. “Yeah. I live in Izumi Village, but I travel around to where I’m needed. I’ve actually been here a couple times to see to the goats. Treating minor injuries and stuff like that isn’t too different from one farm animal to another.”

“So you go to many places,” Uli reiterated with a nod.

“I’ve been to every city and province under Hyrulean rule,” Malon said with a high head. 

“Is that how you ran across Link today? On your work travels?”

“Oh, no. I was actually looking for him. I want to invite him to a little gathering my family is having tomorrow. I think he could use the break.” Malon frowned. “I’m sorry again for earlier,” she added, at once contrite. “I didn’t know there was bad history between you and Link. If I offended you or your husband’s memory, I apologize.”

Uli bit off the loose end of a knotted string. “Neve was only a month old when Link and a captain from the castle brought Rusl’s body home. As soon as I saw that boy driving the cart, I knew… I knew it was because of him. There was a look in his eyes behind the grief that told me so before a single word was spoken. Before that, Link had been almost a second son to me and Rusl. A week did not go by without him visiting and staying for dinner at least once. They were good for each other, him and my husband. 

“But after Rusl’s death, it was hard for me to even look at Link. I did not speak to him for a long time, and he stayed away. He finally visited again a little after Neve’s first birthday, bearing toys for both her and Colin. He has been wonderful to them all their lives. He brings gifts and necessities, and Colin looks up to him so much. He has even taken care of them in emergencies.” Uli sighed. “I do not know if I can ever forgive Link, but I can always depend on him, and I appreciate him.” Her eyes flickered. “I see Rusl in him so much.”

“I bet Link sees Rusl in Colin and Neve,” Malon put forth. “And you as well.” She smiled a little. “It’s funny, because the first time I met him, he gave me the impression that he didn’t want any close ties with anyone.”

“It is a lie he tells himself, and a promise he often breaks,” Uli said. “Whenever Link disappears without contact for days or weeks at a time, I never worry because I know he is bound to return for our company. No one needs friends more than him.” She smiled at Malon. “You will be his friend as well?”

Malon nodded. “I think we already are,” she mused. “Link’s just too proud to admit it.” She and Uli shared a laugh.

An hour and a half after the helmasaurus took its final breath, Link handed Colin and Neve a conch shell each from his saddlebags. After some hesitation, he gave a second shell to Colin. “It’s okay if she doesn’t want it,” Link murmured to him out of Uli’s earshot. The older woman was saying her goodbyes to Malon, complete with a gifted round of Ordon cheese.

“Come back soon, Link,” Colin begged. “I’ll hit all the targets next time, I promise.”

“I’m sure,” Link said with a smile. He ruffled Colin’s hair. “You take care of yourself, okay?”

“I’ve gotten better!” Colin rushed out, almost embarrassed. “I don’t cough as much. Only when I run a lot.”

“That’s good to hear.” Link turned to Neve next and lifted her up. “Come here my _lytel pumpion,”_ he teased in a growly voice. Neve squealed and cried out in delight when he raised her over his head and tossed her a foot up into the air. 

“Yeah, that’ll help your injury,” Malon grumbled at him. 

Link tossed Neve up once more and lowered her to the ground. He tried to ignore the stares of the villagers he could feel at his back as he reached up to grip his saddle horn. A hand on his shoulder turned him around. He sucked in a startled breath when Uli wrapped her arms around him. 

“Be careful out there,” Uli urged, and her hands buried themselves in Link’s mended tunic. Link couldn’t bring himself to return the embrace, but he nodded. When he rode out of the village minutes later with Malon, he looked back to see Uli accept the second conch shell from Colin with a smile on her face.

Once out in Hyrule Field, Malon spurred her mare forward to cut across Link’s path, stopping him before he could ride away. He looked at her in mixed confusion and apprehension. He didn’t trust the bright look in her eyes. 

“So,” Malon began with a waggle of her eyebrows. “Like I was saying before we were interrupted by heroics and teatime, I was looking for you today. I want to invite you to a small get-together at my parents’ ranch tomorrow. No, listen to me would you? Just for a minute?” She jigged her mare to the left, cutting Link off once again. He turned his head away. “I think it would be good for you to get to know other people, and for them to get to know you. Maybe then things like that won’t happen as much.” Malon gestured to the patched lines in Link’s tunic.

Link sighed and rubbed at the dull pain in his side. The salve was doing the trick, but he needed to go to a fairy fountain if he wanted truer, faster relief. His fingers bumped over the stitching of the patches, and they stuttered when he felt the rough weave of the bandages beneath his clothes. He looked to Malon and answered her request with a reluctant nod.

“Great!” Malon’s face was one huge smile, it seemed. “You won’t regret this, Link, I swear. My friend Shad knows all about the Regn Tribe and he can--” She pursed her lips together at Link’s startled look. Her next words came out with a tinge of apology in them. “Didn’t I mention that I recognized your style of dress? Shad, my friend--well actually, he’s family, but only by marriage. Not blood or anything.” Malon paused when she felt a small flush touch her cheeks. “Um, Shad’s always going on about all these different ancient and lost races of Hyrule. He took up an interest in the Regn Tribe not long after they vanished and he would tell me all this stuff about them… Anyway.” Malon shook her head. She was getting off topic, and Link was looking more and more irritated. “I think you two would make good friends. He could tell you a lot of stuff about your tribe--you know, all the stuff he researched. And you just talking to him would make his whole year. He thinks every Regn Hylian is dead.” This last was said in a small voice.

Link sighed again and considered taking back his agreement to the invitation. However, he had to admit to himself that a person knowledgeable in his tribe could be interesting to meet. “You haven’t told him about me?” he asked Malon.

“Oh, if I did you would know.” Malon laughed. “He would be hounding your every step.”

“And you said it will be a small gathering?”

Malon nodded. “So, meet me at about noon tomorrow in Izumi Village?” Link mirrored her nod. “Okay, see you then.”

Malon rode off, waving, and headed for the nearest road. Link watched her ride away, still rubbing at his side. His fingers once more ran over the patches in his tunic, and he sucked in a short breath. The blue stone was dug out of his saddlebags in short time. 

_“Come on, don’t be cowards! Get in there!_ Hello, _Bleufarwe,”_ Impa greeted not long after Link blew on the stone. Behind her smiling voice, the sounds of clanging swords and the heavy grunts of fighting soldiers were apparent. “It’s been a few weeks. How are you?”

“Bad time?” Link asked.

“No, no, of course not. I’m just training some of the new recruits,” Impa assured him. Someone screamed behind her, and her voice turned away for a moment. _“Suck it up, Barney, it’s only a flesh wound!_ So what is it, Link?”

“I need those new clothes you said you would get for me,” Link told her.

“Oh, I was waiting for you to ask about that!” Impa said in a bright voice. Link frowned. “I can bring them to you in a couple of days--”

“No,” Link cut in, his voice tight. “I need them now. Today.”

Clanging swords and occasional cries were Link’s only answer for a while. Finally, Impa asked, “What’s this about, _Bleufarwe?_ Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine,” Link rushed out. “It’s just, my clothes are faded from the sun and washing, and one of them is all patched up… A hero has to look presentable, right?”

“’A hero’?” Impa repeated. Link cursed himself silently for the slip of tongue. “All right,” the Sheikah agreed. “I can have my man meet you with them at the usual place.”

“I’m closer to Death Mou--”

“The usual place, or not at all.” There was no arguing with Impa’s tone.

Link fidgeted in his saddle. “Fine,” he agreed. He snuffed out the stone’s light and replaced it in the saddlebag. Already, uneasiness was coiling in his gut and creeping through his limbs. He pushed it aside and rode Epona to the base of Death Mountain where he left her before climbing the mountain once more to reach the closest fairy fountain.

#

The usual place was a band of dead dirt spotted with the ruins of a lost village, arranged around the edge of a large, empty hollow carved into the earth. Stone walls and foundations lay bare to the sun; the wooden roofs were long lost to the winds and seasons. Nearer the hollow, the cracked and splintered remains of boats were being overtaken by drifts of dirt. Three docks lay collapsed in a pile of logs and planks within the hollow. The sun-bleached wreckage gave the impression of bones at the bottom of a grave.

Link rode Epona through the ruins at a quick clip, following a column of smoke he could see by the hollow’s edge. He kept his eyes trained on the smoke, not daring to look anywhere else too closely less the panic fluttering in his chest burst out. His ears played tricks on him by tossing familiar voices across time in hopes of drawing his eyes to a certain house. 

“Hello!” a dark-haired female soldier greeted, waving, when Link came within sight of her. She had a thick accent, suggesting she had grown up in the north, outside of Hyrule proper. Her dark eyes and black hair were characteristic of a northerner as well. A brown gelding--standard issue for the Royal Army--was secured nearby. Above the woman’s fire pit, a duck roasted. 

“I’m Ashei--Impa’s man,” the woman explained when Link dismounted and joined her. “I don’t know if you remember me. I got richer and drunker thanks to your good shooting one night some weeks ago.”

Link did remember her, and he shook her hand when she offered it. “Weird place for a meeting,” Ashei remarked with a frown at the surroundings. Since a smile didn’t seem to be typical for her, the look only deepened the stiffness in her face. “Looks like it was a lake at one point, yeah?”

“Helvus Lake,” Link supplied. The words snagged in his throat. “The village was called Silbarine, home of the Regn Tribe.”

Ashei gave Link a searching look from top to bottom. “Impa’s joke?” she asked.

“A nudge,” Link corrected with a strained smile. “Do you have something for me?”

Ashei folded her arms and looked out over the dried lake. “To the point,” she remarked. “Good. I like that. Too many people at the castle are too fond of fluffing up conversation. I say, why waste breath, yeah?” She walked to her horse and took out a wrapped package from a bag lashed to the saddle. She tossed it to Link when she drew near to him again. He caught it, felt more than clothes within the package, and sighed. Impa had overdone it again. There was likely two weeks’ worth of rations hidden in the clothes’ folds. 

“Are you hungry?” Ashei asked, and she waved a hand at the roasting duck. 

Link was, but there was a brief moment of contemplation while his empty stomach warred with his panic. Between the helmasaurus incident and his second climb up and down Death Mountain, he hadn’t had time for a proper meal; the stomach won out, and Link nodded. He took a moment to carry the package to Epona in order to stow it away. He lingered, however, when he noticed she wasn’t entirely calm. He soothed her and, after some thought, took off his bow from her saddle and a small object from a saddlebag. He returned to the fire pit and sat down. The weapon and object were put aside.

“Expecting trouble?” Ashei asked him. She had taken the duck off its spit. A quick cut with a wide knife had the duck divided in half between two wooden plates.

“Wolfos frequent the area,” Link told her. He accepted his half of the duck with a nod of thanks. Ashei looked away over the dry lake. Her eyes lingered on a small mountain on the far side of it. “Anything else?” Link asked her.

Ashei looked back at him and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Impa always has something to say,” Link grumbled.

Ashei set into her half of the duck. “Yes, but it was all fluff. Nothing I’m sure you haven’t heard before, yeah?”

“She’ll grill you for information when you go back,” Link promised around bites of duck. 

“I got all the answers I’ll need when I first looked of you,” Ashei returned. She took a sip of water from a skin and tossed it to Link for his share. “You have a good bearing. Pity you’re not in the Royal Army.” 

Eating with Ashei was a relief for Link after his busy morning and afternoon. With the initial conversation over, the soldier spoke little. She was almost more aloof than Link was, but there was an undercurrent of kindness beneath the armor and stiff façade. Link appreciated the quiet even though it gave him too much room to think about the ground under the seat of his pants and the derelict houses in the corner of his eye. He kept his shaking hands busy with raising pieces of duck to his mouth. The greasy meat didn’t sit well in Link’s nauseous gut, but it was better than fretting on an empty stomach. Once, briefly, his gorge rose when a flashback of a gory lakeshore thrust itself into the front of his mind. He had to close his eyes to blot out the landscape and Ashei’s concerned face. Lines of sweat crept down his back beneath his mended clothes.

“Which one was yours?”

Link looked to Ashei in confusion at the question. She indicated the ruined houses behind and to the left of him with a nod of her head. Link swallowed his current piece of duck with care. “You said everything Impa had to say was fluff.”

“I’m not asking for Impa. I’m curious,” Ashei explained. “You’re shaking harder than a Deku Scrub. Talking about it might help, yeah?”

“Talking never helps,” Link nearly snapped. Ashei’s dark eyes drilled into him. Scowling, Link looked out over the ruined village. He didn’t think he would be able to find it, but memory dragged his eyes along a particular path. “That one. The one with the weeds growing right beneath the window.” He looked away as soon as he saw that Ashei had found it. His mind had placed a dismembered foot in the doorway. Ashei asked no more questions.

Epona raised her head with a whinny a quarter hour later. Link’s eyes snapped to her. He took in her ears--one forward and one backward--along with her dancing hooves; he leapt to his feet. The plate of duck bones in his lap scattered across the ground. 

“What is it?” Ashei asked him. She stood up and put a hand on the hilt of the sword at her waist.

“We’re cornered,” Link told her. He whistled to Epona, and she rushed to his side. Already her eyes were wide with fear. Wolfos were another one of the few beasts that could strike the mare dumb with terror. 

Ashei took hold of her gelding’s reins in her free hand. The gelding had smelled the threat as well, and was agitated. It yanked at the reins with jerks of its head when the pack of wolfos appeared from behind the scattered houses. They were lupine creatures with sloping backs, and oversized jaws and claws. They vocalized with howls and a peculiar, laugh-like bark, and they were unafraid to approach or attack larger creatures. They eyed the two Hylians and two horses with eyes gleaming with hunger.

“We can take them,” Ashei said. Her eyes scanned the line of wolfos approaching her and Link. 

“I agree, but we shouldn’t,” Link told her. “The spilled blood would only attract more, and it’s too easy to be surrounded here.” He fitted the object he had taken out of his saddlebags onto an arrow. It was oblong and white in color with various holes drilled into it. “Brace yourself.”

“What are you doing?” Ashei asked while Link aimed up at the sky. She cried out and covered an ear with her free hand when he released. A piercing whistle trailed the arrow as it climbed. Her gelding nearly pulled the reins from her hand.

The wolfos pack yelped and cowered in the wake of the sound. They turned tail and ran seconds later. Link collected the arrow after it hit the ground, pulled off the whistling object, and slipped the arrow back into his quiver. “We have about ten minutes to get clear of here before they return,” he said to Ashei as he hurried back to Epona. “That trick won’t work a second time if they’re hungry enough.”

Nine minutes later, the remains of Silbarine had fallen out of sight behind Link’s and Ashei’s horses. At that point, Link tugged Epona to a stop and took a much-needed deep breath. He let it out slowly with his eyes closed, and he worked to ease the tension in his body. 

Ashei watched him go through this small meditation before saying, “You don’t like going back there.”

Link opened his eyes at her words, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the remark. He held a hand out over the space between his and Ashei’s horses. The soldier accepted it, and they shook. “Thank you for the small story to tell,” Ashei added. Link nodded and parted from her at a quick clip, wanting as much distance between him and his past as he could manage.

##########

**Translations:**

_lytel pumpion:_ [Sheikan] little pumpkin


	8. Trip the Light Fantastic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our hero faces his most difficult challenge to date in this story: a social event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter was a whim, but I rather like it so it will stay as is. 
> 
> Also, a significant hint of _Skyward Sword_ is in this chapter. See if you can find it.
> 
> Thank you for continuing to read this story. Comments, questions, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcomed from both AO3 members and guests. Please enjoy, thank you.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Trip the Light Fantastic

Link wiped at his eyes with a weary hand and debated again on the appealing idea of turning off of the road to Izumi Village. The scent of the soap on his skin reminded him of the effort he had already put out this morning despite the mere hour’s worth of sleep he had managed last night. Nightmares were to blame for the weary shake in his fingers when they resumed their grip on Epona’s reins. In the dark of sleep, too much blood and screams were dragged out of his memories, triggered by his visit to Silbarine.

Izumi Village was more awake than Link by far. People were milling about; going through the motions of chores, or socializing in groups. Some of the energy died when Link rode Epona into the village. He kept his eyes down and hurried along. He was halfway through the village when he remembered that he had no idea what house belonged to Malon. He halted Epona and looked around in hopes of catching sight of the redheaded woman amongst the darker-haired villagers. He spied her by a fence and rode over to her.

“There you are,” Malon greeted, smiling, when Link met her. “I was just heading home to get my horse. Wait here, okay?” Link nodded and watched Malon walk away. He sat tense in his saddle and tried not to fidget under the eyes looking at him. It wasn’t long before two particular villagers found him.

“Hello, Onii-san!” Sakura and Kukiel greeted when they reached Epona. Link smiled down at them and dismounted. They bowed to each other, and he presented them with the last two conch shells in his bag. The girls cried their delight and hugged his legs tightly. Epona neighed when Link staggered back against her on his confined legs.

“All right, girls,” Malon called as she rode up on her grey mare. “Don’t kill our hero now. I need him alive for at least today so that I can show him off to my family and friends.”

The girls detached themselves and backed up two steps. “Onii-san, is Malon taking you to a party?” Sakura asked.

“Can we go too?” Kukiel begged. 

“Yeah, Onii-san, can we?”

“Please Onii-san, we want to spend the day with you and Malon!”

This was part of Malon’s plan, Link knew. It had to be, for she laughed at the girls’ enthusiasm as if she was expecting it. There would be no backing out or ducking early from the gathering if Sakura and Kukiel were there to guilt him into staying. 

“Sakura. Kukiel,” Malon called, and the girls turned to her. “I’ll be happy to take you, but only if you get your parents’ permission.”

Link was surprised the girls didn’t trip over each other when they rushed off to their respective houses. He shot a small look of annoyance at Malon that she pretended not to see.

Link learned that Sakura got her looks from her mother, while Kukiel resembled her father. Both sets of parents approached Link and Malon with their daughters at their sides. Link’s stomach flip-flopped. He didn’t think he would have to speak with any of the other villagers. He kept his eyes down while the four adults studied him and talked amongst themselves. The girls tried repeatedly to catch his eye and cast him reassuring smiles. 

Kukiel’s mother looked to Malon and asked, “How long will you be away?” 

Malon thought on the question. “I’d say close to sunset. My parents’ parties tend to last a while.”

Link sighed to himself. Another long day.

“I’ll make sure they’re safely returned home,” Malon added. 

Kukiel’s mother turned to the other three adults. “We could have a day to ourselves,” she pointed out. This was met with small cheers and laughter. 

“But do we trust him?” Sakura’s father asked after the mirth passed. 

Link couldn’t stop himself from looking up. All four parents were staring at him; judging him. He was unable to meet their eyes. His thoughts kicked back to the ruined path the _mashitako_ had ripped through the surrounding trees. 

“He did defeat that terrible monster,” Kukiel’s mother reminded them all. “Even if he made a mess while doing it.”

“I trust him,” Sakura’s mother pronounced. “He has kind eyes.” The other three parents agreed.

Link felt a blush creep over his cheeks. He could only nod his thanks for their trust. 

A cart was lashed to the grey mare, and Malon took the seat. The girls clambered into the back, chattering and calling out goodbyes to their parents. Once they were seated the cart jerked away onto the road out of the village. Link followed alongside on Epona.

According to Malon, her parents’ ranch where the party was taking place was a short ride away; an hour at most. Link rode beside the cart the whole way. As he rode, he made frequent sweeps of the horizon and sky. Once, a few kargarocs circled overhead for a while. Link watched them until they fell behind.

The girls contented themselves with chatter about the upcoming party. Malon answered their occasional question and shared laughs with them. All three of them attempted to engage Link. He answered them with thin smiles and shallow nods. His morning’s breakfast wasn’t sitting well in his uneasy gut.

“You look like you need sleep,” Malon remarked. Link saw she was looking at the bags beneath his eyes. “Are you going to be up for this?”

“I’ve had plenty of sleepless nights before,” Link assured her. “I’ll be fine.” He heard two soft gasps to his left, and he stiffened in his saddle.

“Onii-san can talk!”

“Onii-san, you talked!”

“Onii-san, what’s your name?”

“Onii-san, why don’t you talk more?”

“Yeah, Onii-san, you have a nice voice!”

“Onii-san, Onii-san, talk to us some more!”

Link groaned and dropped his head while Malon broke into gay laughter. “You need the practice anyway,” she pointed out between laughs. “Do you think my family will let you stay silent the whole time?”

“Onii-san, you can practice with us!”

“Yeah, come on, Onii-san!”

In reluctant bursts of conversation, Link ‘practiced’ while simultaneously feeding Sakura’s and Kukiel’s curiosity. He told them his name first, and they repeated it in awed voices before resuming the practice of calling him ‘Onii-san’. He also shared Epona’s name, and told them how he had rescued and trained her. The girls wanted to know about every vanquished monster, every sight seen, and every person met. Link kept to the gentler stories, leaving out details such as nasty wounds and near-death encounters, as well as the general animosity he was usually met with.

The conversation tapered off on Link’s side when he noticed the road was nearing a large ranch. A few people on horseback zipped by the slower cart. They called out warm greetings to Malon and the girls, and stared curiously at Link. Unease spiked within him. Epona snorted at the new smells on the wind and balked for a few seconds before Link spurred her forward again.

Malon noted the unease in both horse and rider. “I think it’s best to put Epona in the pasture with the other horses. You can store your tack in the stable. Then you can meet my parents.”

Lon Lon Ranch, as the property was called, was expansive. The main house was three stories tall and expanded in all directions. Its design put its age at about two-hundred years, yet it shined as if new. The wide, tree-spotted yard was filled with canopies and tables; a large crowd of people wove their way between it all, and more were appearing every minute. Music drifted over the yard, coming and going with the wind. The stable was almost as large as the main house, surrounded by a fenced paddock and a broader pasture. Whinnies carried to Epona’s ears, and she lifted her head towards them.

Link took his time removing Epona’s tack and saddlebags before leading her to the pasture’s gate. Malon had taken Kukiel and Sakura to meet her younger sister, Romani. Link had a good feeling the girls would hit it off without any trouble and join the pack of children already running around the ranch. He wished he had their ease and confidence. 

Epona trotted through the gate and lifted her head with a neigh. She joined the other horses belonging to the ranch and its visitors, and was soon lost amongst them. Link folded his arms atop the gate to watch the herd graze and play. He didn’t hear Malon come up behind him, and her hand at his elbow startled him.

“You know, the people are over there,” Malon reminded Link. She jabbed a thumb at the main house where the sound of music and conversation had grown to expand over the whole property. “Come on, hero, they won’t bite.”

“You told me it would be a small gathering,” Link said as he followed Malon back to the house.

Malon frowned at him over her shoulder. “What are you talking about? This _is_ small.” The horde of guests mingling about refuted the words. 

Malon’s parents, Talon and Lona, were in the kitchen along with Malon’s older sister, Cremia. The sisters shared an uncanny resemblance. If not for Cremia’s five years over her younger sister, Link would have mistaken them for twins. They took after their mother, who shared their slender build and red hair, but their eyes came from the wide, dark-bearded man who was their father. Where Lona was composed, Talon was boisterous. However, as they worked on the food and drinks there was no break or hesitation in their movements together. Their closeness reminded Link of what he could remember of his own parents.

Cremia was the first to notice Link when Malon brought him to the kitchen. “Oh,” she said, and she raised a hand to her mouth. Her wide eyes told Link she recognized him. His unease compounded, and he flinched away from the latest of the many people going in and out of the kitchen door to his right. 

Talon turned at Cremia’s soft exclamation. His eyes lit up. “Hey! There he is--the hero of Ordon! I heard you dropped a bunch of helmasaur spoils in their backyards. They’re getting a new waterwheel with the extra rupees after repairs are done.” He wiped his hands on a towel and crossed the kitchen to take up Link’s hand. “Malon said she was going to try and get you here. Are you hungry? I hope you are--there’s plenty to eat!” Talon laughed. Link wasn’t sure why, and he recoiled slightly.

“Daddy,” Malon said, pushing her father back two steps; Link fanned the fingers of his cramped hand. “A little space, okay? He’s nervous around people.”

“Of course, of course,” Talon said before closing in on Link again. “So they call you Blue Arrow, huh?”

“He prefers Link,” Malon put in. She ignored Link’s glare. 

“He’s so precious,” Lona remarked from her position by the sink. She and Cremia shared a smile when Link’s face flushed red.

“Okay!” Malon walked forward and picked up a tray of cut cheese from the tall island table in the middle of the kitchen. “Link, carry this outside,” she ordered as she thrust the tray into his hands. “Don’t worry,” she added when she saw the terror in his eyes. “People won’t care who you are so long as you’re bringing them food. There’s a long table where everything goes, to the right of the front porch. You’ll see it. When you’re done, come back for more. Go, go!” Malon shooed Link out of the kitchen before he could raise a single word of protest.

Link worked his way down a hall and through the front door, dodging people the whole while. He received several long looks, but he was too focused on not dropping the tray from his shaking hands to truly care. The first step onto grass was a relief, and he found the food table easily enough. There was an open space alongside a bowl of fruit salad. Link lowered the cheese down and straightened up with a small sigh of relief. After turning around, he stopped mid-step when he saw a young, auburn-haired man around his age staring at him through a pair of round glasses, some distance away beneath a tent. Link dropped his eyes and hurried back into the house. 

The man was closer when Link brought out a basket of fresh rolls. He was on the other side of the table when Link lugged out a pot of chili. Link nearly dropped the pot when he found a pair of dark blue eyes staring straight into his brighter own.

“You’re that Blue Arrow fellow, aren’t you?” the young man asked. Link lowered the chili pot to the table with extra care. “Tell me, do you dress like a member of the Regn Tribe because you admire them so? Did you know members of the tribe, perhaps? You look old enough. You would have been--what? Ten at the time of their demise? Nine?”

_Eight,_ Link’s mind answered. He turned away without a word and hurried back to the kitchen where Malon was grating cheese over two wide bowls full of salad. Link sidled up beside her and said through clenched teeth, “I found Shad.”

“Oh?” Malon smiled up at him. She frowned at his stiff jaw. “Did he try to take samples already?”

Link’s eyes widened. _“What?”_

“Malon! Malon!” Shad’s voice echoed down the hall towards the kitchen. Link barely had time to scowl before the young man was pushing himself through the doorway. “Malon, that Blue Arrow fellow is here, and it’s true what they say. He dresses just like--” Shad cut off when he saw Link.

Link snatched up a finished salad in the crook of each arm and bulled his way out of the room. He was halfway down the hall when he heard Shad, still in the kitchen, cry out in surprise.

Link was getting fewer and fewer long stares with each bowl or tray he carried out. When he lowered the salad bowls to the table, someone passing by said hello. He returned the greeting a little too late. 

Shad burst out onto the porch. “Mr. Blue Arrow!” he called as he stepped down to the lawn. Malon trailed him to the table. “Mr. Blue Arrow!”

“Link,” Malon supplied.

“Link,” Shad repeated when he stopped beside the Regn Hylian. Link waited, body tense. Shad fidgeted before saying, “I’m sorry.”

There was more than one apology in the two words. Link relaxed his clenched hands and dropped his eyes. 

“I would be honored if you could spare some time today to speak with me,” Shad continued. “Even if it’s just for a few minutes. I understand you’re not at ease with socializing, and I wouldn’t want to compel you into any uncomfortable situation, but if you could… I would appreciate it beyond words.”

“Sure,” Link agreed with a nod. “Anytime.”

Malon stepped between them, smiling ear to ear. “See? _Friends.”_ She put an arm around both young men’s shoulders and drew everyone close together. “Link, Cremia and I can get the last few things. You two get to know each other, okay?” 

Shad pulled out a pencil and notebook from within the light jacket he was wearing. “Do you mind if I take a few measurements?” he asked with a small smile. His enthusiasm didn’t wait for a proper answer. He raised Link’s arms out to the sides and placed hand after hand along their span. It appeared he knew the precise measurement of his own hand, as he added numbers together under his breath. 

Malon nearly dropped her next tray when a loud thump and several cries of alarm came through the front door. She hurried outside to find Link had Shad against the table with a hand holding down the young man’s head and another hand holding Shad’s right arm against his back in a chicken wing. The guests were looking on in fear.

“What’s going on?” Malon cried as she walked down the porch steps.

“I was only trying to take measurements!” Shad explained. His voice came out high and slightly compressed. 

Malon looked at Link. He gave her a look that spoke of deep irritation. “What were you trying to measure, Shad?” Malon asked with thinning patience.

Shad contemplated on whether or not the answer was worth speaking aloud. “I can estimate!” he said instead.

Malon walked up to them, put down the tray, and murmured to Link, “Remember the image we’re trying to portray, okay? I promise he’s harmless, so just let him go.” 

Link sighed, but released his hold on Shad. The young man straightened up, looking unperturbed and all smiles. “That was thrilling!” he remarked. “You’re rather formidable, my friend. Oh, thank you,” he added when Link smoothed out the creases in his clothes, and picked up the notebook and pencil that had fallen to the grass.

Malon turned to the anxious guests and waved a dismissive hand. “Boys,” she said with a roll of her eyes. A few people laughed, and the tension eased. “Okay,” Malon said, turning back to Link and Shad. “I think nearly everything’s out, so we’ll be starting soon. Hey!” She slapped Link’s hand away from a row of crackers. “Not until after the prayer.”

“What prayer?” Link asked. Malon didn’t answer, and Shad pulled Link’s attention away with a question about a favor if possibly if Link wouldn’t mind if he would just if it wasn’t a bother hand over a cut of hair…

As if sensing what Malon had hinted at, the guests crowded closer to the front of the house where the food was laid out; the more musical members of Malon’s family put aside their instruments. Talon and Lona walked out of the house a minute later. Malon and Cremia snuck by them with the last of the food. After the trays were put through some last-minute adjustments, Malon pushed through the crowd to where Link stood with Shad. “Come on,” Malon said, beckoning Link forward. “Daddy wants you to lead the prayer. I told him it would be good for you.”

The warmth dropped out of Link’s face. “No. Malon, no. Bad idea. Malon--” Link dug in his boot heels when Malon took hold of his elbow. 

“Shad, would you--”

“Certainly.” Shad took Link’s other elbow and helped Malon to drag him to the front.

Link was shoved onto the porch with Malon and her family. He turned around and looked out over the yard while his body trembled. _Everyone was staring at him._

Talon was talking. It sounded like a welcome to all the guests. Link didn’t care. He wanted to seep down into the ground. His dry throat worked at the knot within it. He jumped when Malon took hold of his left hand, and Shad his right. Everyone was joining together in a long chain. Link watched the subtle shifts of movement as their hands connected. He saw Kukiel, Sakura, and Romani take each other’s hands, but not before all three of them waved at him.

“Go on,” Malon urged in a whisper. “The Goddesses’ Prayer.” Her smile faltered a little. “You know it, don’t you?”

Link had, once. It was a regular prayer at both the castle table and Rusl’s family table. He hadn’t spoken it in years, however. He had abandoned that nonsense shortly after his mentor’s death. His mind scrambled for the words and meter of the prayer. The first line flitted by and he snatched at it. “May proof of--”

“A little louder, my friend” Shad whispered, giving Link’s hand a shake. 

Link swallowed another knot in his throat. He had started in a whisper. He dropped his head as if in reverence. Looking at the ground was a great improvement, and he began again in a carrying voice, “May proof of the Goddesses’ Power guide us in moments of doubt.”

The crowd took up their cue. “Din,” the people said together. The word was what Link needed to remember the rest.

“May we carry the weight of their Wisdom with straight and true backs.”

“Nayru.”

“May their call of Courage give us our daily strength.”

“Farore.”

“Praise the Triforce,” Link finished. He closed his eyes and waited for the Goddesses to strike him dead with a bolt of lightning.

“Praise the Triforce,” the crowd echoed. Clapping and murmurs of approval followed. Malon’s and Shad’s hands released their grip on Link’s sweaty palms. As one, the guests moved towards the food table.

Talon and Lona came up to Link and thanked him for the prayer. He shook their hands without registering that he was still alive. He kept expecting to feel the heat of white fire, and to see the ranch’s yard break away into the gleaming landscape of the Sacred Realm. When Malon’s parents walked away, Link lowered himself onto the porch steps, put his head in his hands, and gulped down breath after breath. 

Malon brought Link a prepared plate. He accepted it with a word of thanks and at once set upon muffling his uneasy stomach with the food. Malon took a seat on his left; Shad soon filled in the spot to the right. He watched Link eat with fascination and remarked, “So the Regn Tribe was just as vigorous in their eating habits as most Hylians.”

Malon laughed when Link cast Shad a bewildered look. “You’re going to be hearing things like that all day,” she promised him. 

“Malon, are you not aware of what we have here?” Shad asked her with a gesture at Link. “This young man is a living monument to an entire lost tribe!”

“’Young man’? Shad, we’re no older than him! Stop trying to sound like your father.”

“Oh! My father would have loved to meet you, Link! Unfortunately, he took a rather bad fall when he was investigating an ancient race called the Oocca and, well, the Hylian body isn’t meant to plummet seven stories down a rocky ravine…”

“Imagine that,” Malon cut in.

Link stuffed a gravy-soaked roll into his mouth and let the prattle wash over him.

Link’s anxiety eased the longer he mingled with the other guests. He found that there were so many people who knew each other, few of them bothered to spare more than a couple of lines of conversation for him, who was more of a stranger. Once they learned he wasn’t carrying a monster around in his pocket, they stopped staring at him as well. He was glad he had taken Malon’s advice about leaving his weapons in the stable with Epona’s tack. The presence of a blade or quiver on his person would be a welcome comfort, but it would have made integrating himself more difficult.

The children were Link’s biggest fans. Likely influenced by Sakura’s and Kukiel’s admiration of him, a group of no less than eight followed him almost everywhere. It earned him a few laughs and smiles when he walked by with the children trailing him like ducklings after their mother. They ran away whenever he stopped and looked at them, only to fall back into place as soon as he started walking again. It soon became a challenge amongst them to draw close enough to touch the hem of his tunic. Giggles and squeals were the signals of success. 

Link gave them plenty of opportunity to try their game, as he was too restless to sit still for longer than a few minutes. His nerves spurred his feet to move; he couldn’t simply sit and pass idle chatter like most of the other guests. He paced all across the property to keep back the urge to return to the field and disappear into the landscape. 

Shad caught Link during one of his short spells at a lonely table. “You’re making everyone nervous, you know,” he said to Link, who frowned. “Pacing about like a wolfos with this scowl on your face. Some may think you don’t want to be here.”

Link relaxed his face, startled to find that it was indeed tight with a dark expression. “It’s a nice change,” he assured Shad, “but it’s not my kind of thing.”

“I agree with you there. I keep trying to sneak off into a nice, quiet corner with a book, but Malon always finds me first.” Shad laughed. “Not that I mind.” His hands turned his notebook over and over against the table. 

Every tap of a corner against the wood drew Link’s eye. “May I?” he asked, and he pointed to the notebook.

Shad’s face lit up. “Oh, of course! Let me…” He opened the notebook and flipped through a few pages. “Here. This is where my Regn notes start. You’ll have to excuse the scattered arrangement. I keep promising myself that I’ll organize everything. Until then, I just jot down any new information that comes my way.”

Link took the notebook and began to read through it. The notes were copious. “Where did you get all of this from?” he asked.

“Ah, mostly through interviews with people who traded with the tribe when it was still around. Also from the soldiers who were dispatched to, um… take care of the bodies.” Shad watched Link’s face for any sign of distress, but the Regn Hylian was immersed in the notebook. “May… May I ask what happened to the remains? There are no records of them in any death books that I could find at the castle or in Kakariko.”

“They were burned, and the ashes were spread at Lake Hylia,” Link replied. He frowned at the pages and held a blind hand out for Shad’s pencil. It was handed over, and Link wrote something into the notebook. “The Dark Wolfos that killed them tainted the bodies and land. It would have been unwise to bury them, and the Regn Tribe’s preferred method of posthumous disposal was a pyre anyway, so…” He frowned again and made another note.

“What are you doing?” Shad asked, politely.

“Annotating,” Link replied. The pencil scritch-scratched again. “And correcting.”

“I assure you, my friend, my sources are a hundred percent… accurate…” Shad trailed off when Link looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Ah… Carry on.”

Link was two pages into the notes when Malon came up to the table. “Are you boys having fun?” she asked. Link didn’t look up, and Malon looked to Shad. “What’s he doing?”

“Annotating,” Shad replied with a thrill in his voice. 

Malon groaned. “Shad, it’s a party, not a library. Come on, Link, let’s dance.”

Link’s head snapped up. He took in Malon’s ready expression and the quick music playing against the bright conversation of the party. He shook his head vigorously and buried his nose back in the notebook. 

Malon sighed and held a hand to Shad. “Will you have this dance with me, Shad?”

“Gladly.” Shad took her hand and stood up from the table. Link spared an eye to watch them weave their way to the open stretch of lawn that was serving as a dance floor. He wasn’t sure how long they danced, as he was too absorbed in the fond memories of Silbarine that Shad’s notes stirred up. He kept expecting a line or word to bring forth the usual grief, so it was a pleasant surprise to find the opposite happening. With the lively chatter in his ears and the memories in the forefront of his mind, it was almost like being home again.

Shad returned to the table with a face flushed with cheer, and a smile on his lips. He glanced at the page that Link was reading, and his eyes lit up further. “Ah! Now there’s a dance you might be willing to do. The Regn Dance. Do you remember it?”

“I’m trying to,” Link replied with a frown. He read the Regn Dance passage again in hopes that the description would trigger a clear memory. It was right on the edge of his mind…

“All Hylians have the potential for magic in their blood,” Shad began in a voice worthy of a scholar. “Few of us take the time to truly develop it, however select kinds of Hylians--the Regn Tribe, for instance--use or have used that potential for small, focused kinds of magic. The Regn Dance was one of those kinds. It was used to draw up water from underground in times of drought.”

“We used it to maintain the purity and water level of our lake as well,” Link added, remembering a snatch of conversation he had once shared with his sister. 

“I wrote down the steps from an eyewitness,” Shad explained. He looked around. “Let’s get to a more open space.” He stood up from his chair and pushed it back under the table.

“You’re going to try it?” Link asked.

“Just for fun,” Shad confirmed, smiling. He took the notebook back from Link. “It won’t work--the dance requires several tribe members, not to mention Regn Hylian blood--but maybe seeing it will trigger a memory in you. Then we can get the correct steps down for more accurate notes.” Shad began to lead the way to the back area of the lawn, close to the pasture fence. “I plan on writing a book about Hyrule’s ancient and lost races, so it must be as precise as possible. When I get it published, you’ll be one of the first to get a copy.”

“Can’t wait,” Link said, merely out of politeness’s sake. 

No trail of children followed Link this time. The desserts were laid out on the table, and many of the young guests were clambering at their parents’ sides for a plateful. Sakura and Kukiel found Link, however, and they tailed him and Shad, firing question after question about what the young men were doing, where were they going, and didn’t they want dessert? They quieted by Link’s side when he stopped. Shad walked forward a few more paces and opened his notebook to the Regn Dance page.

“Right then,” Shad muttered. He squinted at the page in the softening evening light. “So first we… We put a foot here.” He shifted his left foot out in a sliding motion. “And then our right arm goes…” He swapped the notebook to his left hand and stretched out his right arm. “Oh, but…” He swapped hands again and frowned at the notebook.

“Shad!” Malon’s voice cut across the yard and broke the young man’s concentration. “What are you doing?” she asked, coming up to stand by Sakura’s side. “Is he going into a fit?” Malon asked Link, who shrugged. “When he was little, he would always have these little--”

“Malon, please, this is very scientific and I need to focus!” Shad cut in, his voice shrill. He attempted a new step, switching the notebook between hands again as he did.

“You look like you’re in pain,” Malon stated. Sakura and Kukiel laughed. “Just what is he trying to do?” she asked Link in a whisper.

“The Regn Dance,” Link replied. He frowned at Shad’s stiff movements and for a moment, he was taken back to Helvus Lake. He was seven years old again and watching his sister smoothly shift through the Regn Dance along with a dozen other tribe members. “But he’s doing it wrong.” Link walked forward.

“Shad, you dolt, you’re doing it wrong!” Malon called, laughing.

Shad stopped his floundering. “What did you--Oh.” He stilled when Link snatched the notebook out of his hand and tucked it back into his jacket. “Did you remember then?”

“Somehow,” Link said as he stepped to Shad’s right side, “seeing someone make a fool of himself helped me to remember.”

“Was I really that bad?” Shad asked. Link gave him a look that told him it was best not to know the answer. “Right then. Well, I am your pupil.” Shad gestured for Link to begin.

“You have to be graceful,” Link began. “The women in my tribe were always better at it,” he added as an afterthought. He didn’t know Shad had gestured for the girls to join in until he saw Malon, Sakura, and Kukiel line up behind him. They beamed when he looked over his shoulder at them. 

“It does require several members of the Regn Tribe,” Shad reminded him. “We’re not Regn, but we can be your tribe, right?” He turned back to the girls. They agreed with nods and smiles.

Link sighed and tried not to let the pressure of the watching eyes get to him. “Stand on your left foot and raise the other,” Link directed. He balanced on his left foot and held up his right leg behind him in example, leaning forward slightly with his left arm stretched out and the other up and slightly back. Sakura and Kukiel copied the movement easily enough. Malon and Shad wavered a little at first, but then stabilized. “Then you turn, bring your right leg down, and bow while stretching the right leg out to put your foot against the ground. Keep your arms out too, but line them with your body. You want a downward angle because you’re calling to the water underground.”

The group turned as one and with some adjusting and repeated instructions, matched Link’s new stance. Kukiel said something to Sakura, who laughed. Their enthusiasm brought a smile to Link’s face. “Next we turn and leap,” Link directed. He spun to his right and leapt a few feet in the same direction. “As soon as you land, you go into two spins. This draws the water closer to the surface.” He demonstrated, and the others copied him after making their own leaps. 

“Nearly done,” Link said after the spinning was done. “Now we take four wide steps forward, moving side to side--almost like the leap before. This tells the water where we want it to come up.” Link took a wide step to the left, then right, and repeated them. He had to leap a little, as he had instructed. The others followed his example. “Finally, we spread our arms up and out. That signals the water to come out.” 

The group spread their arms to their sides, following Link. After a few seconds they dropped their arms and broke into laughter. Link studied them in confusion.

“That was fun!” Malon offered as an explanation. “Come on, let’s see if we can do it better.”

Link agreed and fell back into place again. He took the lead once more, only this time the others followed him with less hesitation, and their movements were nearly in sync. At the end of the second try, Kukiel and Sakura squealed. The three young adults looked back at them to find them laughing and dancing in place in a puddle of water. Three more puddles were spread out behind them, looking like the wet footprints of a large monster. 

Shad tapped Link’s arm. “Should we…?”

Link nodded. “Yeah.” The word came out on a dry tongue. He took up the starting position again with the rest of the group, feeling a fluttering in his chest that, for once, wasn’t panic. His mind raced ahead of each step. _Stretch turn stretch leap hop and--_

The ground burped a wide spread of inch-deep water that splashed over the group’s shoes. 

“Again! Again!” Sakura urged. She was already stretching a leg into the air. The others followed. Link was proud to see they all moved in perfect sync now, shifting from step to step with the smooth fluidity of--

A tremor rattled through the ground, followed by a dull roar; the evening light was momentarily shadowed. Link looked up to see a wall of water rise above him and the others. It peaked and hung, suspended, for the briefest of moments before the drops that gave it its shape shifted and began to fall. Shad had time for the first two syllables of a word of alarm before the staccato of the falling water drowned him out.

The water thudded against Link’s body and drenched him on the spot. He stood still in shock, arms spread and dripping. Exclamations rose behind him, and he knew he wasn’t the only victim. Link turned around in apprehension. He suspected everyone was about to have a few outraged words with him.

Shad was wiping droplets of water from his glasses on his shirt--a futile effort, as every inch of his clothes was soaked. Malon was wringing out her long hair. She met Link’s anxious face with a smile that gleamed with water. Kukiel and Sakura were dancing in the water standing on the grass; droplets flew from their clothes in glinting fans. Their laughter eased Link’s nerves. 

“Ah!” Shad’s hand dove into his jacket to where his notebook was stored. He relaxed when he saw that only the cover was damp. “This is definitely going into the book,” he said to Link.

Malon told everyone they were welcome to the towels inside the main house, and she led the way back. People stared when the wet group walked by, but no one raised any concerns or questions. Malon had spare clothes of Romani’s that fit the girls, and she found a set of clothes from her father’s thinner days for Shad. Link accepted only a towel from her to dry the worst of the wet from his skin and hair before he went to the stables. There, he dug a spare set of clothes out of his saddlebags and changed in an empty stall. 

After peeling off his soaked clothes, Link took a moment to relish the thrumming sensation in his skin. It wasn’t the damp or the cooling night air; it was something deeper. Was it the magic in his Hylian blood that Shad had talked of? He rubbed at his arms and the thrumming died away, but Link was sure it was still there. It was a peculiar but pleasant sensation. He wondered why more Hylians didn’t try to perform magic simply to experience the feeling.

The hours crept past sunset. Link finished annotating and correcting the Regn Tribe section in Shad’s notebook , much to the young man’s repeated thanks. He then found a quiet table under a softly lit tent and watched Shad and Malon dance together and interact with the rest of the guests. After some time, Talon found Link and tried to push a mug of something he called ‘Chateau Romani’ into the young man’s hands. The heavy scent of alcohol wafting off the drink ripped opened Link’s sinuses. He politely refused, citing a dislike for milk, and spent the next five minutes wiping snot from his assaulted nose.

Somehow, despite the energy of the party and frequent visits to the dessert table (sweets were a rare luxury), Link found his eyelids growing heavy. He snapped back to full alertness often only to droop in his seat minutes later. He finally succumbed to a light sleep for a half hour before someone shook him awake with a gentle hand. Link jerked upright and tensed in his seat. He relaxed at the sight of a familiar pair of round glasses.

“Malon’s looking for you,” Shad explained once Link was past his brief panic. “Something about the girls.”

Link sat up straighter. “Are they okay?” 

“Oh, yes, of course. I think she just wants to send them home,” Shad assured him. Link nodded, stood up, and stretched. “It was a pleasure and an honor to meet you,” Shad added. He held out a hand.

Link shook the hand. “Likewise,” he returned. 

“I may call on you again,” Shad warned with a laugh. “I’ll have Malon track you down for me, if I must.”

“Oh, I look forward to it,” Link said with only half-sarcasm. Shad laughed again, clapped Link’s shoulder in goodbye, and walked away. Link headed in the opposite direction to where he could see Malon beneath another tent. When he reached her, he found her staring down at Kukiel and Sakura. Both girls were slumped over the table in sleep.

“I have a favor to ask,” Malon said once Link reached her.

Link had already guessed. “I’ll take them home. Epona’s pulled a cart a few times. It shouldn’t be any trouble.”

“Oh, thank you.” Malon gestured to the party. “If I leave without helping to clean up, I’ll never hear the end of it. I should have taken them home earlier, but…”

“They were having a good time,” Link finished. Malon nodded. 

Link’s saddlebags and tack were loaded into the cart before he spread his bedroll in the remaining open space. While Malon coaxed Epona into the traces, Link carried first Sakura and then Kukiel to the cart. They moved with the slowness of half-sleep, sliding out of his arms to lie against his bedroll where their eyes dropped shut once more. They didn’t stir when Link closed the cart’s back and latched it. 

“You know, you’re really good with kids!” Malon remarked when Link was finished securing the cart. “Do you plan on ever having any of your own?” The look on his face at the suggestion set off Malon’s laughter. 

Link waited until she was done before saying, “Thank you for inviting me. I…” He looked over the lawn. “Yeah, I had a good time. And I didn’t panic too much. So that’s what you call a win-win, right?” 

“Win-win,” Malon agreed. 

“In all honesty though…” Link pointed to the distant party that still vibrated with the energy of the numerous guests. “This is small?”

Malon gave him a very solemn nod. “Just wait another year until my father’s fiftieth birthday. For big events like that, we cook for days beforehand.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Link said. 

“Malon!” 

Shad’s voice worked its way to Malon’s and Link’s ears. Malon sighed and put her hands on her hips when she saw him on the edge of the party, searching for her. “That dolt.” There was a lot of affection in the mild insult. Shad called her name again. “What’s his problem? He’s looking right at us.”

“He can’t see us,” Link explained. “We can see him because we’re looking towards the light. But his back is to it, so he can’t see anything.”

“Oh.” Malon relaxed her arms. “Sounds a little like you, huh?” Link looked at her in surprise. “Have a safe trip back. I’ll be in touch.” She gave his hand a brief squeeze before hurrying away to join Shad. Link watched the relief come to Shad’s face when Malon appeared out of the gloom. They disappeared back into the party hand in hand, and Link climbed up onto the cart’s seat.

A lantern hung on the cart guided the way down the road back to Izumi Village. Once Link passed into the trees of the forest surrounding the village, it was a simple matter of following the lure of glowing windows. He drove the cart to the collection of houses and stopped Epona there to look around. He couldn’t remember what houses Kukiel and Sakura had come from earlier in the day. Things in the unfamiliar village looked far more different, cloaked in the gloom of the night. 

_“Psst!_ Hey!”

Link turned his head. Someone was waving at him from a lit doorway. He recognized Sakura’s mother; the woman who had said he had kind eyes. He waved back at her and climbed down from the cart. She met him there, wrapped up in a shawl. 

“The others are still drinking along with some of our friends,” the woman explained. “You can bring both girls to our house. Kukiel sleeps over all the time.”

Link took one of the girls into each arm; he didn’t like the idea of leaving one behind, alone in the cart in the dark village. They clung to him in their sleep, and Sakura’s mother held open the front door of her home for him. He balked when he saw the main floor was raised above the entrance inside the door. The shoes lined up along the wall made the intent of the step clear. While Link was flexible when he had to be, he didn’t think he could manage taking off his boots without putting down both girls.

Sakura’s mother hurried by Link. “It’s all right,” she assured him. She removed her own shoes but beckoned Link up the step. He placed each foot with reverent care, trying not to step down hard enough to shake the dirt from his boots. 

In Sakura’s bedroom, Link knelt down and lowered the girls onto the low bed. He had to pause after laying Kukiel down, as the girl had taken hold of his left sidelock. His fingers gently forced her hand open and freed the hair before he pulled a blanket over both girls. 

“You’ll make a good father one day,” Sakura’s mother remarked. Link sighed and bowed his head, which amused her. 

It took a while for Link to part from Izumi Village. Sakura’s mother thanked him repeatedly and tried to push more than one gift onto him. He finally accepted some wrapped sweet bean buns to satisfy her, assuring her they would make a good breakfast come the next morning when his stomach was less full. Afterwards, the cart was left in the small stable by Malon’s house, Epona took on her tack and the saddlebags once more, and Link rode out of the village and through the forest to the quiet of Hyrule Field.

Camp was made under the stars not far off a road where an outcrop of rock provided cover. Link idled through his nighttime routine; despite the tiredness in his body, his brain didn’t want to face sleep. He roamed the immediate landscape and plucked medicinal nocturnal flowers to add to his stores. He lay on the ground and picked out Farore’s Bow, and Epona, his two favorite constellations. His own Epona went to sleep on her feet under the outcrop. 

Still restless after the stargazing, Link pushed himself up and found a stretch of grass unmarred by molehills or rocks. He recalled the steps he had taken with Malon, Shad, and the girls easily enough. The grass felt good beneath his bare feet as he shifted through the dance. He finished, fanning his arms out, and looked down to see if there would be a result.

The ground gurgled, and a dark wetness seeped up over Link’s toes. He gasped and staggered back from the oozing, purple mass. It clung to his feet for a moment before he kicked free, falling hard to the ground in the process. Epona awoke with a whinny when the chuchu’s signature sucking sound announced its full emergence from the ground. With no discernible head or features, it sat on the ground like a large, semi-transparent slug. Link scrambled back when it quivered and shifted towards him. He shot to his feet, ran to his saddlebags, and pulled out his sword. 

The chuchu was split in half with Link’s first swing. The two pieces shuddered and turned for him, each one now with its own instinct. Link swung and hacked at them without pause, scattering gelatinous pieces across the grass. With each piece removed, the chuchus lost more of their desire to attack until finally, when they were the size of rupees, they seeped back into the ground. Link stabbed his blade down into the ground after them, although there was no telling if he struck them or not. Yet they were gone regardless, and that was all that mattered. Link dropped to his knees and leaned against his sword to catch his breath; a task made more difficult by the sobs hitching through his body.


	9. The Dragon's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link's grief rises up, and soon after he finds himself in the Gerudo territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of my favorite chapters to write in this fanfiction. I had a lot of fun constructing the Gerudo territory, and the characters within, and I hope you enjoy reading about it. 
> 
> Sheikan and Gerudian is spoken in this chapter. The translations are provided on the bottom, but the context is within the work.
> 
> A location mentioned in this chapter is directly inspired by the **Hawa Mahal.** The _tatau_ segment is drawn from my experience in tattoos, and from research into modern and ancient methods.
> 
> Thank you for your continued support of this fanfiction. Questions, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are always appreciated from both AO3 users and guests. Please enjoy, thank you.

# -Blue Arrow-

### The Dragon’s Den

Zelda stopped outside Impa’s study and peered in through the open door. Her eyes marked the Sheikah’s distant eyes and the hand that repeatedly dropped a blue stone against the wooden desktop. “Still no word?” the princess asked. Her voice hinted at the hope that Impa’s stance had already denied.

Impa straightened in her seat, rolled her stiff shoulders, and shook her head.

“It’s been more than a month, hasn’t it?” Zelda asked next. _Thirty-nine days,_ her mind specified.

“He’s gone longer without contact before this,” Impa said.

“Yes, when he was at his worst,” the princess reminded her nurse. 

“He’s still out there. The reports of his monster slayings come in daily, along with the damage reports.” Impa smirked to herself. “Even when he’s refusing to answer, he lets us know he’s still getting into trouble.”

Zelda pressed her lips together. “I’m going into town again to see when the merchants last saw him. Last time, I missed him by only a few hours. Will you come with me?”

“In a minute,” Impa agreed with a nod. “Let me try again.” Zelda left the doorway. Impa heard her greeting guards along her walk down the hall. The Sheikah raised the stone to her lips and blew life into it. “Link, are you there? _Bleufarwe,_ please answer me. It’s been more than a month, and I’m concerned. Are you angry with me? If so, tell me what I did so that I can fix it.” She paused and waited for an answer. The light in her stone remained constant. _“Bleufarwe, hwaest proballe?”_

There was still no answer, and Impa snuffed out the stone with worry furrowing her brow. 

#

The market in Castle Town was busier than Link thought it would be given the late afternoon hour. He considered walking away and trying in a few more hours’ time, or perhaps even another day. The stink coming from the bag he had over his shoulder reminded him he couldn’t wait. The tails he had cut off of several lizalfos from earlier that morning wouldn’t keep another two hours, let alone another day. Additionally, the Goddess Plume crystal he had found was too fragile to ride around with for long. Sooner or later he was going to come across a monster that would give him and Epona a hard time, and a broken Goddess Plume was worthless. Decided, Link adjusted the bag on his shoulder and walked through one of the two gates leading into Castle Town. Monster blood oozed through the burlap and left blackish spots in his wake. 

Link dodged between lines and groups of people while only half-registering they were there. The smell coming from the lizalfos tails kept most of the people back, but the occasional pedestrian knocked his elbow or shoulder; whether intentionally or not, he didn’t know. After a few shortcuts, the market’s smells and sounds enveloped Link. Roasting meats mingled with cigarette smoke to clash with a fragrant flower stall. Music and conversation floated over the numerous heads while pennants bearing the Royal Family’s crest snapped in the breeze above it all. 

Link dropped the bag onto a merchant’s counter where it squelched unpleasantly and sagged. The Hylian in charge of the stall--a youngish man named Beedle--gave the bag a cautious prod. Something kicked back, and he yelped. 

Link took out his short blade and plunged it into the bag. A short-lived squeal sounded. He cleaned the blood off of the blade against the burlap and reached into a waist pouch for the Goddess Plume. He placed it on top of the bag, covering the slit his blade had made.

Beedle flashed a nervous smile. “Always an adventure with you, my friend,” he said with a tremble to the words. Beedle was the only merchant in all of Hyrule who was too afraid to shortchange Link. Unfortunately, he wasn’t always around. Today was a lucky break. Link hadn’t had a fair deal in two weeks.

While Beedle assessed the quality of Link’s spoils, the Regn Hylian cast his eyes out over the market. He knew what he was looking for before he found it, and when he found it his gut sank. He made a hurrying motion with his hand at Beedle while his eyes tracked the two horses across the market.

“Just a moment, just a moment… Ah, yes. How unfortunate. There’s a fracture here in this Plume--Hey!” Beedle jumped back when Link snatched the Goddess Plume out of his hands and slammed it against the countertop. It shattered into dozens of pieces, spilling fine crystal dust in a fan. Link pushed the mess aside when he shoved the burlap bag forward. His glare put speed in Beedle’s fingers as they worked the bag open and tallied a quick count. The rupees were secured in a purse that was passed to Link with fearful haste. 

“Hello, _Bleufarwe.”_

Link mouthed a curse and pressed back against Beedle’s stall. He heard the merchant mutter a few words of reverence for the mounted princess and Sheikah. The rest of the market browsers were giving the horses a respectful berth. Link fidgeted, exposed in the open space.

“I can’t imagine you haven’t heard my calls for the past month,” Impa continued. Beside her, Zelda looked on in silence, her expression unreadable to most. Link was experienced enough to recognize both relief and worry in the lines around her mouth. He worked to keep his own emotions out of his face. “We’ve been concerned about you.”

Save for the nickname, Impa was keeping to Hylian without any casual lapses into Sheikan. That meant she was angry. Link scowled and looked away to avoid her piercing red eyes. His fingers clenched around the cloth purse, and the corner of a rupee dug into his palm. Beedle saw the scowl and disappeared behind a curtain at the back of his stall. 

Zelda spoke up. “Link, why don’t you come back to the castle? Then you and Impa can talk, and you can get some proper rest. You look like you need it.”

Link shot her a look that was as dark as the shadows under his eyes. He pushed away from Beedle’s stall and disappeared into the crowd.

“Stop, in the name of the Royal Family!” Impa barked after him. Several people paused and looked to her at the words, but Link wasn’t one of them. Impa watched the blue spot that was his tunic as it flitted through the crowd until it vanished down an alley.

“We should go after him,” Zelda suggested to Impa.

The Sheikah shook her head. “He knows Hyrule Field better than almost anyone. We won’t find him if he doesn’t want to be found.”

Zelda slumped in her saddle. “At least we know he’s alive. The merchants were right about that.” She looked to Beedle’s stall where the lizalfos tails were scattered across the counter. “Looks like he was in the eastern mountains recently. Last week, he brought white wolfos pelts from the northern mountains to a merchant over there.” Her hand pointed out a stall on the far side of the market. “And kargaroc spoils the week before. Well, those could have come from anywhere.” 

“So he’s wandering,” Impa summarized. She shook her head. “Adrift again. When he told me he needed new clothes right away, I heard something in his voice that suggested he was happy, or at least had found something to occupy himself. Something must have happened.”

“If he doesn’t talk soon, I’m going to do something about it,” Zelda declared. Impa raised her eyebrows at her and smiled. “What?”

“Nothing,” the Sheikah replied. “I just wonder sometimes if you inspired Link’s stubbornness, or if it was the other way around.” She had to laugh at Zelda’s face, but it was short-lived in the wake of her concern. Impa looked once more at the corner where Link had disappeared before suggesting to the princess that they should return to the castle.

#

Link leapt from Epona’s back and dropped onto the skulltula with his sword ready in his hand. The point sunk down between the monster’s bloated abdomen and its cephalothorax, nearly splitting the skulltula in half, and pinning it to the ground where it thrashed out the final seconds of its life. 

_What’s a cephalothorax, Master Rusl?_

_Link, if you’re going to be hunting monsters you should learn what parts to dispose of and what parts to keep for spoils!_

Link shook the voices from his head as he dug a vial out of a saddlebag. He approached the pinned skulltula and gave one of its splayed legs a nudge with his foot. The monster didn’t stir. Link collected the venom from its dripping fangs into the vial, corked it, and returned it to the saddlebag where it clacked against several monster horns. 

Link retrieved his sword next. One of the skulltula’s eight legs twitched when he walked away the second time. He spun and lashed out with the sword again, slicing away half of the monster’s face. 

_Master Rusl, it moved!_

_Easy, Link. It’s just the extra life trapped in the nerves. It can’t hurt us anymore._

_“Shyttuf,”_ Link snapped under his breath. He swung up onto Epona’s saddle and spurred her away from the skulltula carcass.

_Master Rusl, there are others still alive on its back. Look, they’re babies…_

_Link, get back! Those are poisonous!_

Link buried his hands in his bangs. 

_Oh. Ha-ha. It stung me._

_Master Rusl, are you okay?_

_Yes, I’m fine. Ha-ha. I’ll just be dead in ten minutes. Ha-ha. It’s funny. I thought I would go differently._

Link clenched his teeth against the scream in his throat. He couldn’t… No, he wasn’t going to do this to himself today… 

_…Master Rusl? Master, can you hear me?_

“Hey, are you going through or not?”

Link stirred and opened his eyes. He was in a deep shadow. He looked up with startled eyes and took in the high, closed gate in front of him. A stone wall of equal height spread to either side of it. Despite the shadow, heat pressed against his skin. 

Epona chuffed beneath Link. He gasped and whipped his head around. Far away, the eastern mountains of Hyrule rose up against the sky behind him. They were blurred by distance, and by the waves of heat wafting off the sparse grass and sandy ground under Epona’s hooves. He was in western Hyrule, farther than he had ever ridden before. How? What was the last thing that had happened? Link thought back and remembered the skulltula. It was around noon then. Now the sun was behind the wall, casting the red and orange colors of sunset over its top edge.

_“Swa locon guot hit notut.”_

_“Metahte stertz_ sunstroke, _neh?_ Hey! Horseman!”

Link looked down at the guard station that was built against the gate in front of him. He blinked to put the two women there into focus. Their brown skin and reddish hair placed them in his mind as Gerudos. 

Gerudos. The western desert.

Gerudo territory. 

Link shook the words from his head and fumbled for the water skin that hung from his saddle. His fingers danced over the bumps and curves of a conch shell along the way.

“Gan… Um, Gan-on-dorf,” Link said to the two Gerudos, working his Hylian mouth over the foreign name. He couldn’t remember saying it very much. He tried again, and it came out smoother. _“Ganondorf._ I want to speak to him.”

The women laughed, and one of them said through her thick accent, “No one just speaks to our king. Does he even know you?”

“Yes, he does,” Link pressed. “I’m Link. He… He took me to the coast once.” The words sounded like a pathetic lie. He doubted they would have an effect.

The Gerudo who had put the question to Link stiffened. _“Bleft Arcus,”_ she said to her fellow. The other Gerudo gave a low _“Ooh,”_ of understanding. 

“Blue Arrow,” the first Gerudo said to Link, her demeanor radically changed, “We were told to give you our full respect should you ever come to our border. Word of your arrival will be sent to King Ganondorf. Until you are called upon, please proceed to the Breeze Palace, which is a retreat where you and your horse may be fed and watered, and enjoy a rest. It is down the left road on the other side of this gate. You can’t miss it, for it shines like the sun.”

_“Oftan uft!”_ the second Gerudo called up the gate. Someone answered her, and there was another shouted order. The sound of wooden gears came to Link’s ears. He watched the high gate ascend until he had enough clearance to ride beneath it. 

The Gerudian capital city--a place simply called The Fortress--struck all of Link’s senses at once. The heat of the sun against his body increased, being no longer shadowed by the gate, and he felt thin sweat bloom at his hairline. Music was as prominent as the voices that called out to others or hawked goods. The scents of cooking food, packed bodies, and the cascading water of an unseen fountain compacted in Link’s nose. He gasped and tasted sand on a gust of wind. 

Epona whinnied and reared some. Link jerked his attention from the city and tried to get her back under control. She circled once, twice, three times, snorted, and trotted from side to side. The Gerudos at the gate laughed while Link shushed and whistled low, giving soft pulls at the reins. He tried a few Sheikan commands that usually worked when others failed. It was all in vain. He could feel Epona was ready to bolt. Perhaps if he--

A voice floated over the sound of the city, and Epona stilled. _“Oh, hwate pratyte martra, gest? Holt, pratyte. Swa pratyte. Guot gurt, guot gurt.”_

There had to be a spell somewhere within the words. That was the only explanation Link could come up with as he stared down at the Gerudo woman who was stroking Epona’s nose. The mare was as calm as she could be. The woman’s brown eyes found Link, and she smiled at him. “You have a fine horse,” she remarked. Her Gerudian accent gave the Hylian words a pleasing lilt that the gate guards could never reproduce. “She just needs to get acclimated. I’m afraid there’s no place within Hyrule that can match the energy of The Fortress. But she’ll adjust, won’t you pretty girl?”

“The Gerudo territory is outside Hyrule,” Link corrected while the woman gushed over Epona.

The woman smirked up at him. “You tell King Daphnes that the next time you see him. He seems to think otherwise.” She offered Link a perfumed hand. “Nabooru. I’m King Ganondorf’s second in command.” 

Link shook the hand. “I’m Link.”

“I know,” Nabooru replied. “Why do you think I’m here?” 

Link cast a look back at the guards. The gate was lowering, but he could see they hadn’t yet moved from their spots, for they were talking to each other. No messengers or birds had passed him either--not there was time for such in the five steps that Epona had taken from the gate. He turned back to Nabooru with a look of wary confusion on his face. The gate thudded into place behind him.

“Why do you think you’re here?” Nabooru asked, rephrasing her previous question. “Your horse is smart, but she couldn’t have made it straight to our border without ever being here before.” Link looked back at the gate and eyed its length from top to bottom. “You may leave at any time,” Nabooru promised him. “You are not a prisoner. You are a guest. Now come along to the Breeze Palace. King Ganondorf isn’t yet ready to receive you.”

Nabooru took hold of Epona’s reins to lead the mare and her rider to the Breeze Palace. Link studied the streets and buildings as he passed them. The angles and heights varied greatly from one to the next. It reminded Link of the cities that Neve was fond of building out of her wooden blocks. Thinking on Neve further reminded him of the silence he had maintained between himself and his acquaintances for the past month. He dropped his eyes to his saddle horn and frowned. Around him and Epona, the streets teemed. The going was slow through the thick crowds; like forging a deep river. People, animals, and rickshaws swarmed every available foot of road. Their voices clattered alongside wooden wheels and lowing oxen.

The Breeze Palace did indeed shine like the sun, largely due to the front façade that rose taller than the building’s floors. Windows lined the façade from top to bottom and caught the setting sun, giving each one an orange glow. The pinkish sandstone used to build the structure further magnified the light. Link gaped up at it with his mouth slightly ajar. The building could rival Hyrule Castle, and it was only the equivalent of a high-end inn? What did the Gerudian royal palace look like then? He looked around him in hopes of catching sight of a towering line of spires or a curtain wall. The erratic, close-packed buildings blocked most of his view, and he gave up.

Nabooru guided Epona down a narrow alley that ran alongside the Breeze Palace. It led to a tunnel that cut through the building, and ended in a courtyard with a splashing fountain. Epona turned her head towards the fresh water, but Nabooru led her further along through another tunnel and into a spacious stable. There, Link was able to rub Epona down and get her feed and water. While she drank, he also checked her over for injuries, for he didn’t trust himself. The past month was not kind on his mind, as it was pockmarked with similar fugue states not unlike the initiated one that had brought him to the Gerudo territory. However, there were no visible injuries on Epona, or indications that she was in pain. She mouthed Link’s bangs in affection, and he stroked her white stripe before he left her stall.

Nabooru was waiting for Link outside the stable. When he joined her, she led him into the Breeze Palace. The level of detail inside the building was almost too much for Link to take in. He got a sense of a lot of marble along with statuary, several shrines dedicated to a mysterious goddess, and gold. Everything else was a blur of beauty. 

“This is your room,” Nabooru said as she opened a door onto a bedroom and adjoining washroom on the top floor. “We’ve drawn a bath for you, and there is food and drink by the bed. Should you need anything, all you have to do is pull this.” She wrapped her hand around a string that hung from a hole in the wall. “Otherwise, no one will bother you until King Ganondorf is ready to receive you.”

Link had carried a small bag with him to the room. He dropped it onto the wide bed and spun in place to take in the lush details. When his eyes fell on the door again, he found it closed with Nabooru gone. 

The room was flushed orange with the setting sun that slipped through the two windows. Link went up to one of them and traced the wooden frame that supported the paned glass. It was smooth and glossy, and polished with a pink wash to match the sandstone. The view was spectacular, as Link had guessed it would be; he could see the entirety of The Fortress. The city spread out to push up close to a high plateau. An open stretch of land divided the bulk of the city from an angular, sprawling structure that was built into the plateau’s wall. Link supposed it was the original fortress that had given the city its moniker. 

A wide bath steamed in the washroom, giving off a faint fragrance. Link didn’t think the warm water was best given the desert heat, but his sore muscles said otherwise. He could almost hear them unkinking under his skin when he lowered himself into the perfumed water. For several minutes he lay still in the bath with the water’s surface just under his nose. Afterwards, he fell to scrubbing Hyrule Field from his body.

The food was still warm when Link emerged from the washroom. He sniffed cautiously at it, but dismissed it; he didn’t feel like eating. He drank some of the tea, however. It was lightly sweetened with rosewater, and it brought back memories of birthday dinners in Hyrule Castle years ago. 

The bed was dismissed along with the food even as the sun sunk below the horizon, and The Fortress came to life with lanterns and fires. The noise of the people in the city never stopped. Laughter, shouts, and music carried through Link’s windows, which he opened to let in the cool night air. He paced the room’s width over and over, his head always turning towards the view, until the restless itch in his bones pushed him out of the room and down the flights of stairs to street level.

Link was no sooner on the street when a performer rushed by him atop a unicycle. He flinched back and regained his startled breath; the man was juggling flaming clubs. People laughed and dodged out of his way. Rupees and foreign coin flew towards the small baskets hanging on his hips. A line of performers followed him. They called to the crowd and played music. 

The festival air persisted no matter how deep into the city Link wandered--which was fine with him, as it kept him awake. Activity was rampant, and stalls were still open even when only the moon provided light to the area. Along with the imported goods sold by traders and foreign merchants, jewelry and similar adornments appeared to be a popular commodity. Link found and paid for a wide leather bracelet with round, yellow bells woven into it that featured Triforce engravings. The Gerudo woman running the stall accepted his five rupees with a smile and tied the bracelet around his left wrist for him. It fit snug with a comfortable weight. Link often found his fingers tracing the bells as he strolled through the streets. The distraction gave him some stability amongst the crowds. He was able to stand shoulder to shoulder with spectators while a Gerudian and a Hylian woman danced together against music played with various wind instruments.

“They’re good, huh?” Ganondorf spoke up to Link’s left, beneath the music. Link nodded. The dance ended with the Gerudo dipping her partner, and the crowd clapped and tossed rupees. Link added his share before turning to follow Ganondorf through the crowd and back to the slightly-less crowded street. Once clear, he shuddered the tension out of his body; his bracelet jangled. Ganondorf took up the adorned wrist, nodded in approval, and dropped it to urge Link onward through the crowd.

“You came at sort of a bad time, actually,” Ganondorf explained while he and Link walked. His strong voice cut through the crowd’s noise with ease. “The middle of the week is the worst. The whole place is thick with traders on their way through our territory to make it to other lands by week’s end. But it’s good for the economy, so…” He shrugged.

“You brought me here,” Link reminded him. “Or I think you did. Nabooru suggested as much.” Her name was just as tricky on Link’s Hylian tongue, but he managed well enough.

“She’s a good girl, Nabooru is,” Ganondorf said with fondness. “She likes to take care of people. She’s helped me at my worst times. So I put her in charge of a lot of things. Sometimes I think I’m king in name only, and that’s fine with me.” He laughed. “Imagine trying to walk through this crowd if everyone was rushing to show reverence. Goddesses, what a nuisance. So I enforce a casual profile and let Nabooru do the talking. She loves it. As for you, you were thinking more of those ridiculous thoughts, so I snatched you away from bad influences so that you can cool your head and get some rest.”

Link frowned. “Why are you so concerned about me all the time?” he asked.

“Because I think you deserve more than the terrible fate the Goddesses handed you,” Ganondorf replied. “Just because destiny deals you a certain hand that doesn’t mean you have to play it. As soon as you learn how to discard your ill fate, you’ll be a lot happier.”

Link dodged around a pair of kids running across the street. “You like to gamble?” he asked the Gerudo king.

Ganondorf laughed again. “It’s just a metaphor. Come on, we have a bit of a walk.”

Ganondorf’s destination turned out to be the old, angular fortress Link saw from the Breeze Palace. The Gerudo king confirmed Link’s guess: it was the original Gerudo fortress, built for the war against Hyrule hundreds of years ago. After the war was lost and the treaty signed, traders once more began to move through the Gerudo territory, bringing with them the money and goods that went into expanding the city over the centuries.

“The Gerudo kings reside in this stronghold as a reminder of our past,” Ganondorf explained as he and Link walked up the path to the sprawling structure. “It’s supposed to enforce humility seeing how the last battle of the war coated the walls red with Gerudian blood.” 

“So it was the king’s idea?” Link asked.

Ganondorf laughed at that. “Did Nabooru wiggle politics into her conversation with you?” Link shrugged. “Practically, this is better than a palace in the city proper. It’s a little quieter, and the plateau shields it from the cold winds. Watch.” Ganondorf pointed back at the bright city. “Come about… two in the morning, all of those people will disappear into their homes and inns. No one wants to be outside when the night wind blows. It’s like cold knives driving into your skin, and it can kill you within half an hour if you’re not wearing protection.”

“Speaking of skin…” Link broke off to nod at a Gerudo guard at the end of the road who had waved at him. “I’d like to get my _tatau_ done while I’m here.”

“Is that right?” Ganondorf stepped through an open doorway with Link at his heels. Warm firelight, thrown by sconces lining the labyrinthine halls, gave a glow to the stronghold’s interior. Guards frequented the halls, and the occasional painting or rack of ornamental weapons hung on the wall. But for the most part, the stronghold struck Link as empty. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the stone floors ate up the sound of every footstep. Through three kitchens and up two floors, Ganondorf led the way along the lengths of halls. Link tried to remember the exact turns, but they didn’t stick in his head. He wasn’t sure if sorcery was to blame, or if it was the tiredness he was doing his best to ignore. 

The door to Ganondorf’s chambers was flanked by two Gerudian guards. They were chatting to each other across the doorway, and they continued to do so as their king and his guest passed through. Link glanced up at the feather-adorned steer skull hanging above the door before he walked into the chambers beyond. He cleared the door’s arc, and it shut behind him on its own accord.

_Stay aware._

Link pivoted when Impa’s warning came back to him too late. His hand groped for the short blade that wasn’t there; he had left it behind in his room at the Breeze Palace. He spun back around and studied the main room of the chamber. It was a sitting room, complete with a dormant fireplace, and it was empty. A door led off from it on the left into another low-lit room. 

“If it makes you feel better,” Ganondorf’s voice called from the unseen room, “there’s a set of scimitars on the wall to your right.”

Link marked the curved swords hanging on the right wall. Their blades looked sharp and true. Ganondorf was either confident, or he had no ill intentions. Link relaxed on his feet and approached the dim doorway. It brightened with lamplight when he walked through, and his eyes fell to inspecting the room for danger. It was a wide bedroom with a large bed sticking out from the left wall, shelves heavy with scrolls and books to the right, and two chairs arranged on a woven rug between; a door led off to the left, likely a washroom. Ganondorf was nowhere to be seen.

To Link's immediate left was a long table beneath a bright lamp that threw flickering light over an arrangement of hand tools. Link forgot his misgivings and walked to the table to study the tools. They ranged from long, brass needles nearly four feet long to small wooden tools with a rake-like metal heads edged with sharp teeth.

“This is it, right?” Link asked. He turned his head and found Ganondorf standing behind him. He jerked away from the table with a surprised gasp and backed up several steps. 

Ganondorf folded his arms and studied Link from head to toes and back again. “You can’t undergo something like this on an empty stomach.”

“I ate,” Link lied. The words sounded unconvincing even to him. “A few days ago,” he added when the Gerudo king’s eyes narrowed.

“And sleep?” Ganondorf pressed.

“Sleep and I aren’t getting along right now,” Link replied, looking away. His head snapped back around when Ganondorf turned away. “Hey, come on, I’m fine so just--” 

Link stopped and staggered back a step. Ganondorf had spun around, and his face was dark with irritation. “Gan, come on,” Link tried again. Ganondorf said nothing, and took a step forward, looming. “I want to get it done, and I’m not--Gan, will you listen? Hey, I’m--” The back of Link’s knees struck the bed. He dropped to the mattress in meek silence, although with a stormy face. He refused to meet Ganondorf’s eyes.

“You will get some rest,” Ganondorf pronounced once he was sure Link wasn’t going to move. “And when you’re ready to get up, you will eat some food. And only then will I do anything for you. Do you understand?” Link scowled at his lap, but nodded. “Good. Now go to sleep.”

Link supposed it wouldn’t hurt to try. At the very least it would get Ganondorf off his back. He kicked off his boots while the Gerudo king snuffed out all but one of the lamps with a wave of his hand; the room fell into semi-darkness. Link crawled up the bed’s length and dropped his head against one of the two pillows. He had forgotten how good a bed could feel. He hadn’t slept in one for ages. He turned his head into the downy pillow and closed his eyes. His nose took in musk, incense, and a hint of soap. It was all diluted with time, however, and it made Link wonder if Ganondorf was lately at odds with sleep as well. 

#

_Hot breath spilled over him with each of the beast’s exhales. They dampened his clothes and brushed his hair back from his wide eyes. He tried counting the teeth when the muzzle stretched in a hungry grin, but there were so many… He squirmed beneath the heavy paw against his chest. Something mewled. Was that him?_

_“Do not worry, Link,” the beast growled. Its teeth clicked and flashed with each word. “In thanks, I will spare you.” A grey tongue slipped out from the wide mouth and licked him. He squirmed beneath the wide, moist tongue, and the beast laughed. The sound vibrated through his ribcage. It was the last thing he heard or felt for a while. A dark paw swung into view, and his mind snapped into blackness._

#

“No… No, don’t… Please don’t kill--” Link’s eyes snapped open. He registered a plush bed beneath his body and a strange room around him. He scrambled up into a sitting position. Where was he? This wasn’t Hyrule Field. Was he in the castle? No. _No._ How did--

The cold breeze coming in through the room’s windows brushed Link’s frantic thoughts aside when it brought the sounds and smells of The Fortress to him. The memories flooded back, and Link relaxed. He dropped his head down to the pillow once more and curled up beneath the blankets against the chill air. There was a more immediate odor of cigarette smoke on the breeze. Link’s tired eyes found a pinprick of fire coming and going against the window’s starry view. The shadows around the window fell into place to create the image of a Gerudo king. The cigarette’s glow revealed the yellow eyes were fixed east. Link watched the wax and wane of the orange light until his eyes closed once more.

When Link next woke up, the room was bright and warm with afternoon sun. He kicked off the smothering blankets and rolled over towards the door to study the bulk of the room. He was alone. A tray of food and a jug of water sat on the nightstand by the bed. Link took a few sips of water but rolled back into sleep without touching the food.

The noise of The Fortress flitted through the windows all day to meet Link’s ears whenever he rose out of sleep. It wasn’t as boisterous as it was the previous night. Link wondered if it was because some of the traders had left, or if the daytime heat quelled some of the enthusiasm. In the stronghold, people came and went; Link heard their voices slip into the room. They worked their way into his dreams and joined the screams his mind imagined. 

The day darkened to evening. Link spared a few moments for the toilet that adjoined the room, but otherwise passed the hours away in troubled sleep. When The Fortress once more thrummed with evening frivolity, Link felt the bed dip with someone else’s weight. He opened bleary eyes to find Nabooru seated on the edge of the bed.

“King Ganondorf says to drink this.” The Gerudo woman held out a glass containing a drink that was the color of the sky. Link pushed himself up and accepted the glass. There were only a few swallows within it. He gulped them down and felt the drink run down to his stomach, trailing cold. Nabooru left him after pulling the blankets up over his body. Link closed his eyes and slipped back into his nightmares. 

Come the next morning, Link was no longer tired. He was also ravenous. There was no tray of food, however. Link washed and changed into a fresh set of clothes (someone had stacked his belongings neatly against the wall) before leaving Ganondorf’s chambers. The guards outside the door directed him to a kitchen where he found Ganondorf eating at a table within. Link slipped into the seat opposite the Gerudo king, murmured a greeting, and set into the food spread. Around the table, Gerudo women bustled through their preparations to feed a hungry stronghold. Their sharp language and laughter contested with the clangs and clacks of pots, pans, and cooking utensils. 

Link filled and cleaned his plate twice, even taking a piece of crusty bread to mop up a last bit of egg yolk. He felt Ganondorf’s eyes on him the whole time. However, when he dared to look up the Gerudo king was always concentrated on something else. At the end of breakfast, while Link was finishing a cup of tea, Nabooru walked into the kitchen and came to the table. She leaned down to whisper something in Ganondorf’s ear. The Gerudo king sighed and rubbed his forehead. 

“Something wrong?” Link asked. Nabooru spared him a look, and he had a sudden feeling that whatever it was, he was to blame.

Ganondorf shook his head. “Just a couple of pests. I thought they would have shown up earlier than this. Excuse me.” He stood up from the table. “Go for a walk, Link. Visit your horse and take in the sights. I need to take care of this. When you come back, we’ll see to starting that _tatau.”_

Link made the trek across The Fortress in an uneasy air, sure that he had done something wrong. Epona dispelled some of his anxiety when she poked her head out of her stall at the sound of his footsteps. It appeared the Gerudo were taking good care of her, but Link recognized the restlessness in her. He decided to take her out for a run. 

The sight of the gate opening was something Link thought would never fail to impress him. He passed by a line of people heading for the gate in the opposite direction and urged Epona into a short run. The packed dirt and sand of the desert became grass after an hour’s journey. Link stopped Epona there and set her loose to graze and enjoy the open space. He reinforced some of her training as well, and rewarded her with an apple when she heeded his commands flawlessly.

Upon returning to The Fortress, Link stabled Epona at the Breeze Palace and worked his way back across the city. He was gone nearly three hours; he felt that was long enough. The guards nodded him into the stronghold, and somehow--likely due to more sorcery--he was able to find his way through the halls to Ganondorf’s chambers.

The Gerudo king was seated in a chair by the long table in his bedroom. The table was pulled out and cleared of its earlier display, but Ganondorf had one of the tools in hand; he appeared to be inspecting it for damage. He looked up and smiled when Link entered the room. “Still want to go through with this?”

Link nodded. He removed his two necklaces and pulled off his tunic and undershirt. Ganondorf directed him to lie down on the table before he disappeared into the washroom. The cool touch of the polished wood felt good against Link’s sun-flushed skin. He rested his cheek on his folded arms and spied tools and jars sitting nearby on a smaller table. His skin felt like it was thrumming, just as it had after he performed the Regn Dance. 

Ganondorf returned with his sleeves rolled up past his elbows and his dark skin gleaming with cleanliness. He picked up one of the jars from the second table and removed its clay lid, revealing a thick, clear substance. “Chu jelly,” he explained when he saw Link’s curious look. “I have to pierce your skin. This will keep diseases from getting through. You’ll be using it yourself over the course of the next few days as the _tatau_ starts to heal.” 

Ganondorf began to spread the chu jelly over Link’s back, using quick, broad strokes of his hands. It was a different kind of cold from the table, and Link shivered. He sought a distraction. “Hey, who did your _tatau?”_ Link had the sudden image of Ganondorf lying on the same table with _tatau_ tools hovering over him in a cloud of sorcery.

“My mothers,” Ganondorf replied. “It was one of the few things we agreed upon.”

“You have more than one mother?”

“I have two. They were the pests I spoke of this morning. They both claim to have given birth to me, but I don’t know who to believe. They get a lot of things wrong between themselves. They’re twins, and they’re four-hundred years old--or three-hundred and eighty, depending on which one you ask.”

Link chuckled. “Can I meet them?”

“No.” Ganondorf’s answer was hard. “They want to kill you.”

Link chuckled again. It was short-lived when he realized Ganondorf wasn’t sharing in his mirth. “Why?” Link asked through a dry mouth.

“It’s no fault of yours,” Ganondorf assured him. His hands left Link’s back. “More, it’s because I’m not living up to their expectations. I say if you are too busy meeting others’ expectations, how are you to find the time to meet your own?” 

“I don’t bother with expectations at all,” Link spoke up. “I just do whatever comes to mind.” He frowned. “Impa says I’m adrift.”

“I agree with her,” Ganondorf said, which deepened Link’s frown. 

Something clattered; Link didn’t dare to look. He got a sense that Ganondorf was mixing something--most likely the pigment that was going to be used. “So how does this work?” Link asked to break the silence in the room. “I mean, what’s the method?”

“It varies depending on the visual effect you want to create,” Ganondorf replied. “I could thread the pigment into your skin. Or cut the skin and introduce the pigment that way.”

“Oh.” Link imagined Ganondorf taking a knife to his back and hacking lines into the skin. Or sewing it not unlike how Uli mended clothes. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

“But for you…” Ganondorf continued; Link tensed. “I’ll use a different method. It’s similar to a style from a distant island country. My mothers used it for my _tatau._ It will take a few weeks of off and on work, but I think you’ll be happy with the result. I’ll give you an actual tern--not that hard-edged thing you made in the sand.”

“In exchange for what?” Link asked. There had to be a catch or a price somewhere. He lifted his head and turned back to look at Ganondorf. 

“You think you’re the only lonely one in Hyrule?” Ganondorf asked in return. “I am surrounded by a tribe of women and, as beautiful as they are, it can be taxing to be the only man amongst them. Lie down.” Link lowered his head and straightened out his shoulders. “We’re a lot alike, so I want to help you,” the Gerudo continued. “Won’t you let someone do that for once?”

“Help me how?” Link asked. He felt Ganondorf stretch a portion of his skin between two fingers.

“With sorcery,” Ganondorf explained. “Some of my own making. It will help you with your grief--the nightmares and the pain--but you must give permission first.”

_Stay aware._

Link shook the voice out of his head. Sorcery to help him with his nightmares? With the pain he always felt in his heart? What did he have to lose? It couldn’t make his grief much worse. “Yeah, okay.” In response, he heard Ganondorf murmur a few words. The next second, something bit him several times in rapid succession.

_“Ow,_ what was--” The biting came again. _“Sunabicce!_ Damn it! _Hwa helan!”_ Link squirmed with a grimace on his face while Ganondorf laughed. “You could have warned me.” Link grumbled. There was a line of fire on his back.

“You wanted it,” Ganondorf reminded him with another laugh. “Besides, what was that you said? _There are worse pains?”_

“It took me by surprise. That’s all.” 

“Well it’s only going to hurt more from here on out. Now stop whining and lie still. You have to have the strength and discipline to endure the _tatau._ An unfinished one is a mark of shame.”

“Are you doing it all today?” Link asked.

A touch of annoyance came to Ganondorf’s voice. “Weren’t you listening to me before? No, it’s going to take a few weeks. I’m just doing the outline today.”

Link nodded and watched Ganondorf dip the tool into a shallow bowl of black pigment that was on the table. Similar tools lay beside it. They were of various widths, made of wood and bamboo with needle-like teeth arranged in a row at their ends. The biting soon struck again and again, bringing fire with it. Link’s tongue muttered fresh curses, Hylian and Sheikan alike. 

Ganondorf often released the stretched skin to wipe it clean with a cloth. At these times, Link smelled blood mixed with the earthy pigment. Soon, even the soft cloth began to hurt against his skin. His eyes tracked the tool whenever it dipped into the shallow bowl for more color, or was switched out for a different width. The worst of the pain came when the needles pierced above Link’s spine or shoulder blades. He bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut at these times. Over the course of several hours, heat spread over his back, mixing with the metallic scent of blood and Ganondorf’s occasional murmured word.

##########

**Translations:**

_“…hwaest proballe?”:_ [Sheikan] “…what’s wrong?”

_“Shyttuf”:_ [Sheikan] “Shut up.”

_“Swa locon guot hit notut.”:_ [Gerudian] “He doesn’t look too good.”

_“Metahte stertz_ sunstroke…?”: [Gerudian] “Maybe it’s sunstroke?” [Gerudian for ‘sunstroke’ is the more complicated _heaft siohten aht suntan_ ('sickness of the sun'). With the introduction of Hyrulean ties, the simpler Hylian word became more favored.]

_neh:_ This is a question tag in the Gerudian language, similar to ‘eh?’ or ‘right?’ at the end of a sentence. It can also mean “no”, as in _“Neh,_ I speak Hylian”. _Neh_ and the Zoran counterpart _nya_ often bleed into common Hylian. 

_“Bleft Arcus”:_ [Gerudian] “Blue Arrow”

_“Oftan uft!”:_ [Gerudian] “Open up!”

_“Oh, hwate pratyte martra, gest? Holt, pratyte. Swa pratyte. Guot gurt, guot gurt.”:_ [Gerudian] “Oh, what a pretty mare, yes? Hello, pretty. So pretty. Good girl, good girl.”

_“Sunabicce!”_ and _“Hwa helan!”:_ “Son of a bitch!” and “What the hell!” These are Hylian curses converted to Sheikan. The Sheikah have their own curses, but they’re a little more proper; the Hylian comes more readily to Link when he curses in surprise, as he does here.


	10. Reverence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While in the Gerudo territory, Link spends time learning of various things alongside the Gerudo king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bonus chapter that wasn't first published with this fanfiction's original posting. (Both on my tumblr, and on Zelda Universe.) It details a bit of the near-two months Link spends with the Gerudo. I apologize for the delay in posting, but I had to write this chapter from scratch rather than do a simple re-edit.
> 
> On a side note, thank you for over 100 hits! This means a lot to me. Comments, questions, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcome, thank you.
> 
> Some Gerudian is spoken in this chapter, but it's translated in-text.
> 
> Please enjoy.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Reverence

By craning his neck, Link could just see most of his _tatau’s_ outline in the mirror that Ganondorf had magicked into existence. The skin around the dark lines was red and bright, and beads of blood peppered the inked areas. The scent of it was still in the closed air of Ganondorf’s chambers, and from the adjoining washroom came the sound of the Gerudo king washing his hands and tools. Link sniffed and pivoted his hips a little to bring more of the _tatau_ into view. His skin burned, but without the feeling of the needle digging into his skin it was a tolerable pain.

The washroom door opened, and Link turned his head forward to watch Ganondorf walk into the bedroom. “Looks good?” the Gerudo king asked. Link nodded. “Good. We’ll give it a while to heal some before I start on the rest of it. Now listen, it’ll start to feel tight, and then it will start to itch like hell. When it does, _don’t scratch._ Do you understand?”

“Don’t scratch,” the Hylian repeated. 

A week and a half later, Link wanted to take one of the Gerudo Desert’s cactuses to his back. More than the initial pain of the needles, it was the subsequent itch of his healing skin that made him wish he never wanted a _tatau._ He often caught his hand reaching to dig fingernails into his back, and the scratching turned to a sharp slap instead, which Ganondorf said was all right. Yet it wasn’t enough, and Link couldn’t reach every spot on his back.

“You need to get your mind off of that,” Ganondorf remarked with a laugh one morning as he, Link, and Nabooru ate breakfast together. Link had slapped the back of his right shoulder three times in short succession. The last slap hand ended with his hand pressed against his tunic and the pads of his fingers digging in. 

“Hmmm…” Nabooru took a piece of egg into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “I seem to remember a teenage king griping and moaning because he had to sleep on his stomach while his _tatau_ itched all through the night.”

It was Link’s turn to laugh, and Nabooru shared it with him when Ganondorf’s green-brown face darkened further. The Gerudo king grumbled a response in his native tongue that was punctuated by another muted slap of Link’s hand. The Hylian smiled sheepishly at Ganondorf’s smirk and resumed his meal. He had a healthy appetite, and there was little sign of the stress and anguish that was in his face nearly two weeks ago. Proper sleep and diet were responsible, as was the assurance that a bed and safety waited for him at the end of the day. He wasn’t as silent either, although he was still sketchy in crowds.

Daily exploration of The Fortress’s sprawling streets and alleys was helping Link to build up his courage when surrounded by strangers. Ganondorf went with him each time. The Gerudo king didn’t like living up to his royal title, but he was fond of his people and the travelers that passed through the Gerudo territory, and they were fond of him. They passed companionable words between curious glances at the thin, pale Regn Hylian who stood in sharp contrast to the broad, dark Gerudo king.

Ganondorf had his favorite locations within his kingdom that he shared with Link. One of them was The Mayfly; a bar and pleasure house in the heart of The Fortress’s red-light district. The tan-bricked building featured terraces that circled its upper two floors. Men and women of all shapes and shades leaned against the posts and latticed railings, calling down to passersby and waving at those who looked up. Link was one of them, and three people blew him a kiss. He hurried into The Mayfly on Ganondorf’s heels with a red face.

It was soon clear to Link that Ganondorf was a regular at The Mayfly. He slipped into conversations with the workers as if he belonged amongst them. Meanwhile, Link contented himself with a mug of rosewater tea. When the Hylian looked up from his third sip, the Gerudo king was out of sight, and two women and a man were slipping into the empty seats around Link’s table. They smiled at Link, and jaunty piano music began to drift through the room. Against it, men and women rallied around card tables, bellowed to each other across the room, and flitted in and out of doors. 

“So,” began the woman closest to Link. She was a Gerudo with light brown skin and short red hair. “You’re King Ganondorf’s new toy, hmmm? Is that why he hasn’t been around here much?”

Link nearly spit his sip of tea. “Ah… no,” He forced a little laugh. “I’m not his, um, toy. I’m a… a friend. Link.”

_“Bleft Arcus,”_ the second woman murmured. She was Hylian--brown haired and stout. “I’ve heard about you.” She extended a hand. “I’m Myra.”

“Antarta,” the Gerudian woman added.

Link shook both women’s hands and frowned at their faces. “Do I know you two?”

Antarta shared a look with Myra. “You may have seen us dancing,” she replied after turning back to Link.

“That’s it! The first night I came here. You two are really good.”

“Thanks!” Myra replied with a touch of color to her cheeks. “It’s a hobby of ours. Gets us out of The Mayfly once and a while, _neh?”_

“Whereas it seems like I’m stuck here all of the time,” the man spoke up with an exaggerated sigh. “Micah,” he provided, and he shook Link’s hand as well. He was Hylian, blonde and brown-eyed. “Not that I can complain,” Micah said, continuing where he had left off. “Not when the whole of The Fortress is begging at my feet for my time.” He stretched and folded his arms behind his head. The women cast him looks of playful disdain, and Micah laughed before relaxing his arms.

Antarta shielded her mouth with a hand and whispered to Link, “He likes to lord it up because he’s one of King Ganondorf’s favorites.”

“So am I,” Myra spoke up, having heard Antarta’s loud whisper. “But you don’t see me throwing my weight around.”

“You can always join me,” Micah replied with a mischievous wink.

“No one’s begging at your feet right now,” Link pointed out, and the women burst into laughter while Micah’s face reddened. “So, um…” Link frowned down at his teacup. “Gan’s a frequent customer, I take it?”

_“Gan,”_ Antarta repeated with a low whistle. “Even we have to refer to him as ‘King’.”

“Myra, I dare you to call him Gan next time,” Micah put forth. 

Myra shook her head. “Are you crazy? I like working here.” She shared a laugh with Micah.

Antarta was frowning at Link’s troubled face. She tapped the underside of his downturned chin, and he looked up. “What’s wrong?”

Link wasn’t sure if he should say anything, but he had seen Ganondorf and Nabooru emerge from the same bedroom more than once. If she wasn’t aware… “Does Nabooru know about this?” Link asked in a quiet voice, and he waved a hand at The Mayfly as a whole.

Link’s tablemates guffawed as one. The Regn Hylian wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or not until Myra replied, “Lady Nabooru frequents The Desert Orchid.” She watched Link relax with relief and added, “You’re so sweet! I bet we could find a dozen people here who would be happy to see to your needs.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Link replied with a strained smile. “Don’t let me keep you from your business.” He saw his tablemates pass a look amongst themselves, and he sighed. Of course. “Gan put you up to this, did he?”

Myra smiled. “He said you probably get lonely wandering Hyrule all of the time.”

Link sighed again. “Not so much anymore what with him bugging me every other day.” It was an exaggeration, but it worked to bring more cheer to the table. “You don’t have to hang around,” Link reiterated.

Micah waved a hand and pulled out a dog-eared pack of cards from his pocket. “Our time is paid for. Come on, let’s play some cards--guys against gals. And Link, I hope you’re better than me because Myra and Anty are ruthless.”

“Don’t call me that,” Antarta grumbled, but with a small smile. 

Link found he had unnatural luck when it came to cards--so much luck that the women insisted he and Micah were cheating somehow. They switched partners, and Link teamed up with Myra. His luck held, and it was with a cry of relief that Antarta greeted Ganondorf’s arrival to the table an hour later.

“It’s a good thing we weren’t playing for money, or not even King Ganondorf could cover my costs,” Micah remarked. Link cast him a sheepish smile, said his goodbyes, and followed Ganondorf out of The Mayfly. 

Outside, the Gerudo king rolled and lit a cigarette as he walked with Link. As always, the activity of The Fortress pressed in on Link. He stuck close to Ganondorf and marked the people walking by with wary eyes. “You don’t have to worry about me,” Link said once the sound of street music was further behind.

Ganondorf barked out a laugh; a puff of smoke accompanied it. “Doesn’t that tent of yours get lonely sometimes?” he asked before taking another drag.

“It doesn’t matter when I’m neck-deep in nightmares,” Link pointed out.

“Another warm body or two would help you with that.”

“’Or two’?” Link repeated with a slight chuckle.

Ganondorf dragged from his cigarette. “Or three.” He exhaled and smirked down at Link. “Or four. What about you and the princess, though?”

Link wasn’t prepared for the sudden shift in topic. He stalled for a few seconds before saying, “Zelda?”

“You grew up together,” Ganondorf reminded him.

“Not really,” Link argued, and he frowned. “We only lived together for about seven years. We’re good friends. That’s all.”

“You don’t talk to her anymore,” Ganondorf stated. 

Link’s frown deepened. “She pushed me out. She said I was miserable. And maybe she was right, but that doesn’t give someone a reason to push away their friend.” 

“I’m sure she regrets what she said,” Ganondorf said. “Just like you regret what you failed to say, _neh?”_ Link said nothing, but his chin bobbed in subtle acquiesce. “I bet she would want nothing more than to spend the rest of her days beside you.”

Link shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. She’s a princess, and I’m a commoner--born of a tribe that no longer exists. Even if it was to happen, there would always be…” He paused to gauge the best word. “A distance between us.” Link kicked at a loose stone in the road. “I don’t want to live like that.”

Ganondorf shrugged and made to take another drag, but his head whipped around at the sound of a distant scream, and he stopped. Others in the crowd around him and Link also turned to look when the scream was repeated, accompanied by unintelligible shouts.

Link stood on his tiptoes to better see over the heads of the nervous crowd. “Is that coming from The Mayfly?” He dropped to his heels and reached towards his lower back, once more forgetting he was unarmed. When his hand grasped air, Link looked up to Ganondorf. His yellow eyes were fixed on a Gerudo who was pushing her way through the crowd to him. They made way for her at Ganondorf’s bawled order.

“Leevers!” the Gerudo gasped after coming to a stop. “In front of The Mayfly! They’re attacking the people!”

“Leevers?” someone nearby repeated while Ganondorf assessed the information. “They never come into settlements. Are you sure?”

The Gerudo nodded. She next stepped aside when Ganondorf rushed down the path she had made through the crowd. He arrived at The Mayfly and came to a stop atop a small splash of blood. His eyes scanned the area for bodies, but it appeared there were only injuries. The injured had retreated under the encouragement of their fellows. With no more prey, the leevers were charging at the edges of the crowd. Those who were armed--and there were several--chased them back into the center of the wide area that was cleared in front of The Mayfly.

Ganondorf punched a fist with a hand that crackled with sorcery. “Not in my city,” he growled. The sorcery condensed around his fist, and he drove it down against the ground. Arcs of purple and black lightning skipped across the cleared area to strike the leevers. They twitched as their flesh fried. When the lightning ceased, they twitched no more. A snap of Ganondorf’s fingers reduced the remains to ash in brief licks of fire. 

The gathered people praised and thanked Ganondorf as the leevers’ ashes fell to the desert winds. He abided them as long as necessary before turning to his right to crack a joke at Link. But the space beside him was filled with an anonymous member of the grateful crowd.

#

_Leevers? They never come into settlements._

_They never come into settlements._

_They never_

_never_

Link stopped. Had he taken a wrong turn somewhere? He studied the kitchen that he had come to, but he couldn’t remember if it was the one that was near Ganondorf’s chambers. Was that pot familiar? Or that staircase leading up? He couldn’t be sure. 

_They never come into settlements._

A sound echoed down the hall at Link’s back. He turned his head and studied the empty passage. Was that a leever breaking through the floor? Or some other monster? Link turned forward and rushed across the kitchen to the staircase. 

Several minutes later, Link spied the steer skull that hung above Ganondorf’s chambers. He shouldered the door open and hurried into the room beyond it. Link’s bags were already packed and waiting for him at Ganondorf’s feet. The Gerudo king sat in a chair by the fireplace. His yellow eyes fixed on Link’s startled gaze. The blue set dropped first, and Ganondorf kicked forward one of the bags. “If you’re going to act the coward you can leave now and wear that unfinished _tatau_ as a mark of your spinelessness for the rest of your days.”

Link’s clenched fists shook hard enough to stir a faint ringing from his bracelet. “You heard what that man said,” he whispered with a bowed head. “Leevers never come into settlements.” He swallowed. “It was me. They came because of me. Because I was there.”

“Perhaps,” Ganondorf allowed, “but that’s no reason to run away. No one died.”

“This time,” Link tacked on. “What about next time? What if it isn’t just leevers? What if it’s something worse?” He shook his head. “I should leave. At least in Hyrule Field, there’s less chance for someone to get hurt because of me.”

Ganondorf beckoned Link forward. “Come here.” The Hylian crossed the room to the chair on dragging feet. “Kneel,” Ganondorf next ordered, and Link eased himself onto his knees in front of the Gerudo king’s chair. His head was immediately seized between two dark hands that turned it from left to right, and up and down.

Link freed his mouth long enough to ask, “What are you doing?” His head was turned up, exposing the line of his tense neck.

“Looking,” Ganondorf replied.

“Looking for what?” Link pressed.

“For the cheeky smartass I met in Hyrule,” Ganondorf elaborated. “I don’t see him, though. All I see is a child crying for someone else to take care of his problems.” 

Link tugged his head free and snapped, “No one can take care of my problems.”

“Then you’d best learn how to deal with them yourself,” Ganondorf said. He nudged Link’s bags with a foot. “Go put those back. And cheer up,” he added when Link stood up with a dark face. “Tomorrow I’m going to take you to see a special lady friend of mine.”

“You already tried that,” Link said as he picked up his bags.

Ganondorf waved a hand. “This one’s right up your alley. Meet me at the stables tomorrow morning. We have a bit of a ride ahead of us before introductions can be made.”

#

Link never saw a camel before, although he had seen drawings of them growing up under Impa’s and Rusl’s tutelage. Coming face-to-face with the awkward, brown creatures was at first a fascinating experience. It turned sour within moments when the camel chosen for Link spat in his face.

Ganondorf laughed while Link wiped away the spit with a livid mix of Hylian and Sheikan curses. “I guess the charm doesn’t extend to all creatures, _neh?_ Come on, it won’t bite.” 

Link eyed the camel’s froth-lined mouth and edged his way to the animal’s left. Ganondorf held the camel’s reins as Link settled into the cushioned seat situated over the camel’s humped back. Once atop the beast, Link felt better; it wasn’t too different from a horse. Until it stood up. Link gasped and clutched at the seat as the camel clambered up, out of its laying position. It stood taller than Epona, and its walk had more sway. It took a half hour for Link to relax his tight fingers around the reins.

The journey was two hours through sand-heavy winds. The particles were so thick they blocked out the sunlight. It was only by following a line of red flags that the way could be found. Ganondorf taught Link how to protect his face from the biting sand with a wide cloth that covered most of his head. With the howl of the sandstorm drowning them, there was little talk.

The winds finally died at the end of the journey, and Ganondorf waved a hand at the landscape that was revealed. A dried-up oasis sat on the left side of the area, which was surrounded in high dunes. Ancient columns, smoothed by time and sand, stuck out of the ground like broken fingers. And overlooking it all was a colossal woman carved into the side of a tall, ruined temple.

“Serhanaka,” Ganondorf said, and he raised his hand towards the carving’s stern face. “She was once a goddess of the sea until desert overtook it. Now she is a goddess of the sand. Her symbol is the serpent--taken from the sea dragons that lived in the ocean ages ago.”

“I saw her shrine in the Breeze Palace,” Link said. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the carving. It was so massive, its details were clear even at this far distance. Serhanaka sat cross-legged with her arms extended out as if in welcome or supplication. She was dressed in Gerudian garb, and a snake was wrapped intimately around her body. The sand was wearing away her sharp edges, but more than enough of her remained to intimidate those who approached.

“You like ruins, right?” Ganondorf asked Link. The Hylian nodded and spurred his camel forward. He closed the distance to the temple with frequent glances up.

While the camels stood outside in the shelter of the temple’s shadow, Link and Ganondorf stepped inside. The air was musty, but not nearly as hot, and Link felt the sweat on his brow cool. His eyes at once went to the faded paint on the walls of the first room. They depicted dark-skinned people worshipping a woman in a throne-- Serhanaka, Link assumed, for the woman wore a snake headband. More serpents were carved into the room’s details, ranging from subtle dragons curled around corners to large cobras with mirrors fitted into their hoods. A short set of stairs led up to a second level in the room. Link hurried up it and disappeared down a hall that led off to the right. His gasps of admiration echoed back. 

Ganondorf used a bit of his power to take himself to the hallway on the floor above. He appeared at its end in a crackle of sorcery and wound his way around the two turns. On the other end of the hall was a broad, ornamented door, and beyond it lay the main room of the temple. A smaller yet still massive carving of Serhanaka took up most of the floor space. A small altar sat before her crossed legs. Ganondorf lit the torch on either side of it, dropped to a knee before the altar, and pressed a hand to his chest. His head bowed in respect, and a silent prayer twitched on his lips.

An unseen door leading into the room opened. Ganondorf gained both feet and looked up in time to see Link approach the edge of a high shelf of rock. Broken stairs wound down to a lower shelf, and from there it was a short hop to the ground floor. Link marked this path before flicking his eyes out to take in the whole of Serhanaka. Her left, outstretched hand caught his gaze. “Do you think I can jump to that?” Link called down.

“I think it would be a nasty way to die,” Ganondorf shouted back. “And don’t expect me to drag your broken carcass back through those sandstorms.”

Link muttered something and backed up out of sight. Ganondorf tensed when he thought the Hylian was about to make a running jump. Instead, Link reappeared at the top of the staircase. His quick feet took him down it and into the short hop to the ground floor in little time. He dusted his hands together as he closed the distance to Ganondorf. “Hey, what’s ‘sand’ in Gerudian?”

_“Sant,”_ Ganondorf replied. 

_“Sant,”_ Link repeated. He looked up at the goddess. “Serhanaka.”

Ganondorf was impressed. “You pick up accents very well,” he praised. 

Link flashed a smile and walked up to the altar. He avoided the worn area of stone where countless people had knelt over the centuries. His hand flashed through a torch’s flames. “And fire?”

_“Fiurt,”_ Ganondorf supplied. 

“These words are close to Hylian words,” Link remarked.

The Gerudo king nodded. “You’ll find that all of Hyrule’s languages--and Gerudian as well--have common roots. They are all thought to hark back from Ancient Hylian, which is said to once have been the language of the gods. When the races of the world were closer to their gods, everyone spoke the same language. It was only when the gods left the world to its own devices did the people break apart, speak differently, and develop their own characteristics, for there was no heavenly influence to unite them. From that discordance, strife grew until it consumed the world. Things fell away, and existence ceased.”

“And then the Goddesses came along,” Link finished. “They re-created the world in the image of its predecessor with all of the different races intact. Except they left behind the Triforce to keep the world from falling into discordance again.”

“Correct,” Ganondorf said with a nod.

“It’s all bullshit,” Link added, and the Gerudo king frowned. “Gods and goddesses create these worlds then leave when they grow bored? And yet they still demand our devotion, even after they vanish and never show themselves? But why should we give so much of ourselves to beings that don’t even care anymore? I don’t see any gods or goddesses intervening when things go wrong. I don’t see them stopping wars, or plagues, or… or massacres.” His voice cracked. “So why should we thank them for anything?”

“You don’t have to thank them,” Ganondorf reminded Link. “That’s the beauty of free will--free will granted to us by--”

“Shut up,” Link cut in. He raised a pleading hand. “Just shut up. I don’t want to hear anymore about those stupid Goddesses.” He looked up at Serhanaka, seeking a change of topic. “What’s the Gerudian word for ‘snake’?”

_“Snaha,”_ Ganondorf answered. “It’s taken from Serhanaka’s name. Or her name is taken from it. No one knows for sure. Do you want to learn Gerudian?” Link nodded in answer, and Ganondorf growled, “Then I ask you keep your blasphemous remarks to yourself.”

Link’s face flushed, and he ducked it to avoid Ganondorf’s glare. “I’m sorry,” he murmured after a while in silence.

_“Citelgia,”_ Ganondorf said. Link cast him a look of cautious question. “It’s a Gerudian apology.”

_“Citelgia,”_ Link repeated. 

Ganondorf nodded in approval. “I accept your apology. Now come on, there’s a lot more to the temple than this room.”

Ganondorf walked in front, yet in reality it was Link who led the way. His curiosity took more than one detour into rooms, or down dark halls. Ganondorf lit what torches they found along the way, using Din’s Fire to bring the cold briquettes to life. His and Link’s shadows fluctuated against the painted walls, or disappeared into holes in the floor. There were many of these latter in the ruined temple, and one room was reduced to a narrow path down its middle by the collapsed floor.

“Careful,” Ganondorf warned the Hylian at his back. The path was less than two feet wide, and cracked at places. 

“I don’t have to worry,” Link piped up. “I’m not a fat king like you.”

“Cheeky smartass,” Ganondorf grumbled, and Link laughed. The Hylian followed it up with a cry of alarm. Ganondorf thought Link was feigning his fright at first, and it was only when he heard the sound of an unsheathed blade did he turn around. The Hylian had worn his short blade to the ruins, and he now had it in hand. He was turned backwards as well, and his shoulders were tense as he stared down a wrapped, floating corpse that hovered over the room’s missing floor. The dog mask that the corpse wore seemed to almost snarl at its challenger.

“Easy, Link,” Ganondorf urged. “It’s an anubis.”

“It’s a monster.” Link shook his head. “Again and again--”

“Quiet,” Ganondorf hissed. “An anubis is only a reanimated corpse. It’s not a monster. Not exactly. It’s a trapped soul. Now, move back down the path.”

“You want me to get closer to it?” Link asked with eyes wide in alarm.

“The anubis is fixed on you. It will mirror your movements. If you move back, it’ll swing around closer to me. Go on.” Ganondorf urged Link with an impatient wave of a hand. The Hylian flashed a final, startled look before he began to inch back the way he had come. 

As Ganondorf had claimed, the anubis pivoted with Link’s movements. When the Hylian reached the room’s door, the anubis was well within range of the Gerudo king. Ganondorf murmured a Gerudian prayer, touched his fingers to his lips, and mimed blowing a kiss. Din’s Fire spilled away from his fingers and splashed against the anubis’s bindings. The flames consumed them in short time. Coils of burning cloth cascaded down into the shadows of the collapsed floor, and a mist-like form rose up out of the bindings to vanish into thin air.

“There we are,” Ganondorf said with a sigh of relief. Link returned his short blade to its sheath at his lower back. “Divine magic can free a trapped soul from its prison. See? Not every monster is bad. Some are even good for the balance of nature.” Link shrugged, and Ganondorf chuckled. “Well, if you see anymore anubises let me know so that I can free them too.” He resumed the lead.

Link spoke little more during the rest of his and Ganondorf’s stay in the temple; although his enthusiasm continued unchecked with each room they discovered. The carvings and paintings remained prevalent, along with the effigies of serpents, and numerous mirrors.

“What’s with all these mirrors?” Link asked once, breaking his silence for the first time in half an hour. He and Ganondorf had come to a room that featured no less than four mirrors, one of which was fixed into the sloping roof. 

Like always, Ganondorf had a ready answer. “Serhanaka is a vain goddess. She sheds her skin several times a year, much like a snake, in search of the perfect form. She can take any shape, but she’s largely depicted as a Gerudo. It’s said Serhanaka is fond of the Gerudo women’s bodies. She admires them as much as they admire her.”

“A lady-killer Goddess, _neh?”_ Link remarked, and Ganondorf laughed. “So the mirrors are in recognition of Serhanaka’s vanity?”

“Yes, but that’s not all. Serhanaka’s also known as the goddess of reflection, both literal and personal,” Ganondorf added, and Link slipped back into silence for the remainder of his and Ganondorf’s exploration. When nearly every room was found, the Gerudo king announced it was time to leave.

Outside the ruined temple the sun had set some, yet the desert heat persisted. Link wiped renewed sweat from his brow and looked out across the area while Ganondorf saw to the camels. He spied the two trees by the dried-out oasis. “There’s no water at that oasis?”

“Dried up years ago,” Ganondorf replied. 

Link braced his hands on his hips. “The trees aren’t dead, so there has to be some water there.” He paused, debating. “I bet I could draw it up.”

Ganondorf laughed until Link’s serious expression cut him off. “This I have to see,” the Gerudo king said. However, when he and Link rode to the oasis and dismounted, the Hylian insisted on Ganondorf turning away. “I don’t want to look like a fool in front of you,” was Link’s explanation. Ganondorf did as requested, yet his ears worked well enough even when his eyes were facing away. The sound of pattering water came to them, and Ganondorf turned around to find Link standing in knee-deep water.

“How in the…”

Link’s answer was a brilliant smile, and he sat down in the water with a satisfied sigh. It was cold bliss, and it tasted pure. It was a bargain doing the Regn Dance again considering what had happened last time, but it was one that had paid off. Link ran his fingers through the clear water while Ganondorf refilled the water skins. A twitch of leaves drew Link’s attention, and he looked up to see two fairies emerge from the branches of one of the trees. One was a bright yellow, while the other burned a dark purple. They dipped briefly into the water before rising up to circle Link’s head. “Hello,” he greeted.

“Fairies, huh?” Ganondorf put aside the filled water skins, peeled off his boots, and dropped his feet into the water. “A fairy fountain is around here somewhere. They must have come from there.”

Link stretched out both hands, looking much like Serhanaka with his legs crossed below the waterline. A fairy descended to each upturned palm. Every twitch of their wings brought forth a bell-like sound, and Link smiled at them. “Tatl,” he declared, raising the yellow-colored fairy. “And Tael,” he added to the purple fairy. “I’m Link, and the guy lording over the shore is Gan.” Link paused at the sound of the fairies’ twitching wings. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad I could help.”

“You can understand them?” Ganondorf asked.

Link looked up and frowned. “Yeah. Can’t you?”

Ganondorf shook his head. “To understand fairies is a rare gift, usually reserved for those of ancient Hylian bloodlines, and even then it only comes to remarkable individuals.”

“’Remarkable’?” Link repeated with raised eyebrows. “Is that a _compliment?”_

“Don’t get used to it, _luztil fisca.”_

The smile that had come to Link’s face faded, and the fairies took off when he leaned forward on braced hands within the oasis. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t go saying things about me in Gerudian like that. What does lutzy--” 

_“Luztil fisca.”_

“Yeah-- _that_ \--mean?”

Ganondorf nodded at Link’s submerged hands and legs. “Little fish,” he replied, and he smirked at the sight of Link’s frown. 

The nickname persisted, although Ganondorf preferred the Hylian words to the harder Gerudian. Link came to answering it with a nickname for the Gerudo king: sand-for-brains. The words switched to the sharper _sant bregeta_ once he learned the Gerudian translation. 

Beyond the nickname, Link’s Gerudian vocabulary grew under Ganondorf’s instruction, largely given during the long hours of _tatau_ work. Many of the words were close to Hylian, but they were different enough to require more than casual study. Walking the streets of The Fortress, or talking to those Gerudo who didn’t know Hylian, helped Link to learn a bit more. He was soon drawing out his _neh’s_ as well as any Gerudo when he teased Ganondorf, and the sharp consonants gradually became easier to pull off with his softer Hylian tongue.

Yet under the festive atmosphere, the warm welcomes, and a sense of _belonging_ that Link hadn’t felt in years… There was an undercurrent of darkness. Link never mentioned it to anyone. He was half-convinced it was only his anxieties working up. The other half of him felt the pull of something lurking just out of sight. It drove Link to long, solitary walks through the stronghold and The Fortress proper. He tuned out voices and sights, and followed the tug he could feel at his core. It never led him anywhere, but it persisted at all hours. 

One night, Link came to and found Nabooru crouched in front of him. His body was numb with cold, but he could feel the shape of a hallway at his back. A few yards away, the hall ended in an open door that banged against its frame in the wake of the howling night winds. 

“You sleepwalked right outside,” Nabooru explained once Link recognized where he was, and had relaxed. “Another ten minutes in those winds would have killed you.”

Link’s nightclothes felt like sheets of ice against his body, and when he stood up he nearly collapsed on his numb feet. “I d-d-d-don’t s-sleepwalk,” he insisted through chattering teeth. Such a thing was never a problem before. Night terrors and disorienting dreams, yes. But sleepwalking? 

Nabooru drew Link a warm bath, and within the water he more or less regained his normal state of mind and body. It wasn’t the first time she had helped him during his stay in The Fortress, and he wasn’t the only one she helped, as Link found out a week later. 

Link was walking down the hall outside Nabooru’s chambers when a few Gerudian words caught his attention. He slowed to a stop and peeked through a cracked door to find Ganondorf seated in front of Nabooru. The Gerudo woman was sitting on the edge of her bed, and her fingers trailed through Ganondorf’s hair; the Gerudo king’s cheek rested on her knee. They were both nude, and Link would have retreated in haste if not for the next snatch of Gerudian that caught his ears. He didn’t understand all of it, but he picked up “I can’t”, his name, and something close to the Gerudian word for fire. It was Ganondorf who spoke, and the words were tainted with something close to helplessness. 

Nabooru shushed Ganondorf, and her fingers lingered by his nape while she whispered something in return. Her eyes shifted up before Link could move away. Their gazes met through the doorway’s crack, and Link’s lips formed the first word of a silent apology. He stopped when he noticed Nabooru’s look was the same one she had given him during his first breakfast with Ganondorf; a look that convinced him that he was to blame.

The next time Link saw Nabooru, she was with Ganondorf again. She greeted the Hylian as if nothing had happened, but Link was unable to relax until he pulled Nabooru aside an hour later. “Should I leave?” he asked once they were out of Ganondorf’s earshot.

Nabooru raised her hands to Link’s hair and threaded her fingers through it. Link bore the attention, and bowed his head down when he felt Nabooru tug on it. Her lips dropped to his head and kissed it before adding a Gerudian prayer. “We want you here,” she assured Link after she dropped her hands. “You may leave when you like, but please don’t ever think you’re unwelcomed.”

Later that day, Link posed the same question to Ganondorf, only worded differently. “Do you want me to go?” he asked in the quiet of the Gerudo king’s bedroom. Link never saw his host sleep, but sometimes Ganondorf laid on the other side of the bed and read from a book as Link drifted off. In the labyrinthine depths of the stronghold, which was still strange to the Hylian, it was good to know someone was nearby when his eyes closed.

Ganondorf didn’t glance up from his book. “Why do you ask such a stupid question?”

Link shrugged the shoulder not braced against the mattress. “I get the sense sometimes that my being here is a problem for you.”

Ganondorf spared Link a long, unreadable look. “I can handle my problems,” he finally said before returning his eyes to his book.

“Oh, so I _am_ a problem?”

“Go to sleep, little fish. Did you write Lady Impa yet?”

Link hadn’t. “Yes,” he replied, and he feigned sleep that soon turned to the real thing.


	11. Backtrack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link spends his last few days in the Gerudo territory before returning to Hyrule where he finally breaks his silence with a close friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support of this fanfiction!
> 
> Comments, questions, constructive criticism, and kudos are all welcome, thank you! (I reply to everything with enthusiasm.)
> 
> Gerudian and Sheikan is spoken in this chapter. Context is given, along with translations at the end of the chapter.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you!

# -Blue Arrow-

### Backtrack

Eleven bowstrings strained as the Gerudo arranged on the archery range drew their bows back. They faced a line of wooden targets stained with red rings, creating a bull's-eye. Already several sets of eleven arrows peppered the targets and the ground around them. Overhead, the sun beat down on the archers and their instructor, and the noise of The Fortress came to them as a faint murmur; deadened by distance and the walls of the stronghold that stood in front of the range.

“Hold!” Link called before any of his students could release their arrows. He fell to walking down the line behind the women, eyeing their stance and line of sight. “Everyone’s going to hit the target this time,” Link said in encouragement. “A little higher,” he added in a murmur to one Gerudo, and he adjusted her aim with a slight touch to her elbow. He sighted along another Gerudo’s arrow and made a change to her aim, moving it more to the right. With everyone set, Link backed away a few steps and called, “Fire when ready!”

Eleven arrows flitted towards the targets more or less in sync. They were followed by ten thuds. One of the Gerudo hit a bull’s-eye, and she was immediately swamped by her fellows in celebration. They attempted to drag Link into the group, but he politely backed away from their reach. He noticed Corta standing to the side, still in front of her target. She cast him a weak smile and gestured to her target when he raised an eyebrow at her. Corta’s arrow was stuck in the outer edge of her target; the worst shot of the most recent round.

Link blew a high whistle, and the Gerudo’s celebration quieted. “All right, that’s enough for today,” he declared, and he glanced up at the sun. “It’s getting to be midday. Go get some water, enjoy the day, and I’ll see you all the same time tomorrow.” The Gerudo replied with smiles, thanks, and goodbyes. They maintained their group as they walked away to store their bows and quivers. Corta made to follow them, but Link called her back. “Show me how you shoot,” he told her when she rejoined him.

“Not well,” Corta replied, again with the weak smile. She drew an arrow from the quiver on her back, notched and drew, and released once she was satisfied with her aim. The arrow nicked the target and continued on at an angle to hit the sand. “See?”

Link understood what was wrong, and he winced. “I’m sorry. I should have seen it before. Switch your stance.”

“What? But I’m right-handed.”

“It’s not about your dominant hand. It’s about your dominant eye. Go on, see if it feels better.”

Corta looked unconvinced, but she swapped her stance and aimed another arrow. Link stopped her to adjust her aim, and she fired once he said she was ready. They watched the arrow fly through the air to bury into the target just an inch off from dead center. 

“I did it!” Corta exclaimed. She jumped once before remembering herself. The glee dropped, and she straightened her stance. “Thank you, Master Link,” she said, at once disciplined. 

Link muttered a Sheikan curse. “You don’t have to call me ‘Master’. And you’re allowed to celebrate. You got a bull's-eye! I talked about it all day after I got my first one.”

“Oh? How old were you?”

“Almost ten.”

“Oh?” Corta smirked. “I can just imagine little itty-bitty Linky-winky getting his first bullsy-eyesy--”

“On second thought, call me ‘Master’,” Link cut in. He put an arm around Corta’s neck in a playful hold. Her teasing dropped off into laughter, and she pushed at his arm. He let her go quick enough. 

_“Yerka.”_ Corta smacked Link’s shoulder in equal jest. “Oh!” She drew the hand back to her chest. “I’m sorry, I forgot--”

“It’s okay, it’s healed now,” Link told her. He looked around; they were now alone on the archery range. “Do you want to see it?” 

Corta nodded with bright eyes. She helped Link push up his tunic and undershirt to reveal the tern on his back. The bird’s beak rested on his neck with its tapered wings spread across his shoulders’ span. The forked tail trailed down below the tern’s body, nearly touching his beltline. 

“Oh, I love this green!” Corta remarked. Her fingers traced the tern’s green wing tips and crest. Link flinched, and Corta withdrew her fingers. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m just glad it’s stopped itching,” Link said with a relieved sigh. Corta laughed behind him. She straightened the creases in his tunic when he lowered it again. Link turned around and gestured towards the target. “So, let me see you shoot without my help.”

Corta took up her bow again, drew an arrow from the quiver on her back, and fell to aiming it. Link resisted the urge to correct her alignment, and he was pleased that he did, for Corta corrected it on her own. The arrow thudded snug against its fellow after she released, and she cheered. 

“Wow, you almost split the first one,” Link said. He walked across the range to the target. “Hey, Corta, come see this!” he called when he had reached it. The Gerudo hurried out to him and bowed over when he pointed at her arrows. A sliver of wood was shaved off of the first arrow’s shaft by the second. 

“Oh!” Corta covered her mouth. _“Agesumt,”_ she mumbled through her fingers. The exposed corners of her lips lifted in a stronger smile.

“You’ll soon be giving me a run for my rupees,” Link remarked. He accepted Corta’s sudden hug with only a minimal stiffening of his muscles. The Gerudo took the shaved arrow with her as a souvenir when she left the archery range. Link collected the scattered arrows that were Corta’s first three attempts, tossed them into a box by a lean-to at the end of the range, and took up his own bow. 

Link found Corta’s footprints in the sand, backed up another fifteen feet, and aimed an arrow at the target. It felt good to stretch out his shoulders without the feeling of tightness in his tinted skin. His first shot split Corta’s remaining arrow. The rest of the arrows in his quiver thudded into the target one after another in quick succession. By the end, the target had a spiral of arrows embedded in it. Link looped his bow over his chest and moved forward to collect the arrows. When he turned away from the target with a full quiver once more, he found Ganondorf striding across the archery range towards him. Link met him by the lean-to, and they took shelter from the high sun in the structure’s shade. 

Ganondorf had a folded piece of paper in his hand. He tapped it against his folded arms while Link took swigs from a water skin. “I received a frantic letter today from a particular Sheikah.”

Link’s sips stuttered to a stop. 

“I told you to write to her more than a month ago,” Ganondorf continued. “Did you?” Link’s tight eyes answered the question. “She thinks you’re dead. No contact, no eyewitnesses, no reported monster slayings… She finally remembered I took you to the coast, and she wrote to me in hopes that I had seen you.” Ganondorf held out the letter. Link took it in silence. “I suggest you get into contact with her.”

Link’s mouth was dry despite the water he had drunk. He nodded, and Ganondorf walked back out into the sun. Alone, Link took some time to read over Impa’s letter. It voiced the very concerns that Ganondorf had told him of. Link folded the paper and put in a waist pouch before heading back to the stronghold. He didn’t need sorcery to nudge him the right way through the halls; not after nearly two months in The Fortress. Still, he dragged his feet on the way to Ganondorf’s chambers, which were given to him by the Gerudo king as sleeping quarters. Epona, too, was moved from the Breeze Palace to the more humble stronghold not long after Link’s arrival. She was relishing the company of the other horses that belonged to the guards and to Ganondorf. 

The blue stone was dug out of a pile of folded clothes that were atop the table where Link had undergone hours of _tatau_ work. He blew on it, and it brightened in his hand. “Impa, are you there?” Link called.

The stone’s light fluctuated when its partner was picked up across the kingdom. “Link, is that you?” came the frantic answer.

Link snuffed out the light between his hands and pressed the stone against his tunic. _Zelda._ That was Zelda’s voice. He took several deep breaths, put the stone aside, and decided to try again later. When he placed the stone atop his clothes, he imagined that at that very moment, Zelda was running to find Impa and tell her what had happened. The image brought an unintentional smile to Link’s face.

It was Impa who tried again before Link could. The Regn Hylian was pulled into helping a few Gerudo put the last finishing touches on a new stall in the market; which led into a meal around a bonfire where reenactments of myths and past battles entertained those gathered around the flames. Link finally retired to the chambers deep in the stronghold to find the blue stone glowing atop his clothes, and Impa’s voice calling for him. He snatched up the stone and dropped onto the bed. 

“I’m here, Impa,” Link greeted. The stone’s light outlined his smile.

“Link?” Impa gasped before dropping into one of the fiercest tirades Link had ever heard from her. Impa avoided Sheikan when she was angry, but her two languages muddled together when she was furious. Link knew better than to interrupt, so he lay down with the pillows supporting his back and listened to the mixed Hylian and Sheikan spilling out of the stone on his chest. Ganondorf walked into the bedroom ten minutes into the lecture and raised his eyebrows at the sound of it. Link grinned, and the Gerudo king took a book down from a shelf before retiring to the main room for its quieter atmosphere.

Impa’s lecture eventually tapered out. Link heard her collecting her breath before she asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Link assured her. “Whole and healthy.”

“Where have you been all this time?” Impa hissed. 

This was the part of the conversation that Link was dreading. “I’ve been staying in The Fortress,” he replied, saying each word with even care. 

The stone’s light flickered. “What?” 

Link was expecting another tirade, yet it was the soft way Impa said the word that grated on him more. “I just needed to get away for awhile!” he put forth as a defense. “And I’m fine--safe and everything. I’m an honored guest.”

“Link…”

He could almost hear her shaking her head. “I’ve been sleeping better too! There have been some monster incidents, but I’m not losing sleep over it, and I haven’t had a nightmare in over two weeks. And I’m learning about trading and more equestrian skills and I’m even picking up a little bit of Gerudian--”

“You must return to Hyrule,” Impa cut in. “As soon as possible. I want you back on native soil.”

“I’m fine here,” Link insisted. “And The Fortress practically belongs to Hyrule anyway.”

“You--” Impa cut herself off. Link heard a sound of exasperation. She picked up soon enough. “What must I say to make you understand? Get back to Hyrule _immediately._ I don’t want you where I can’t reach you. What if something was to happen to you? Or to the people you care about on this side of the border?”

“You can reach me well enough through the gossip stone,” Link reminded her.

“Link, this is not up for discussion! You get your _orrhos_ back here right now, or I swear I’ll--”

_“Shyttuf!”_ Link snapped back, cutting her off. His back panged. He straightened up into a sitting position to alleviate it and continued, “I don’t have to listen to you! I can do what I-- _Hey!”_ Link made a futile grab for the blue stone. Ganondorf’s free hand pushed the Hylian’s head back against the pillows while his other hand closed around the glowing stone. 

“Lady Impa,” the Gerudo king greeted. He walked away from the bed. “I hope this evening finds you well.”

Link scrambled off of the bed and ran after Ganondorf. He was stopped by an invisible wall that manifested in the doorway between the bedroom and the main room. Link bounced off of it with a pained cry. When he returned to it (feeling carefully with his arms) he looked into the main room to see Ganondorf was seated in one of the chairs by the fireplace. Link rapped on the magic barrier. Ganondorf spared him a look before laughing at something Impa had said through the stone. Link couldn’t hear either of them.

Link paced in front of the barrier until he realized Ganondorf wasn’t going to remove it. He cursed and returned to the bed where he laid down and put his back to the door. He didn’t roll over when Ganondorf’s footsteps entered the bedroom, and he hunched his shoulders when the Gerudo king’s weight sunk down onto the bed.

“Another week,” Ganondorf told Link. “That’s all. She’s a ruthless negotiator, your Lady Impa. She threatened sanctions if I didn’t send you back right away. But I told her how well you’ve been doing here, and she eased up a little.”

Link traced the bells woven into his leather bracelet. “Isn’t there any way I can stay?”

“You really want to stay?” Ganondorf asked. “You would have to become a criminal in Hyrule. Why would you willingly give up the chance to live in such a beautiful kingdom?”

“I don’t know,” Link admitted. He buried his face into his pillow to discourage any more questions.

“A lot of hearts would be broken if you vanished from Hyrule,” Ganondorf continued. “Keep those who care about you in mind before you make any selfish decisions.” He got off the bed and tossed the blue stone down onto the mattress. Link listened to him walk back into the main room before he moved to pick up the stone. 

“I’m glad you’re all right, _Bleufarwe,”_ Impa said when Link reached out to her stone again. Her voice was notably softer. “Please don’t scare me again. I think I aged ten years these past two months.”

“You’re still _bealte,”_ Link assured her.

Impa laughed. “Why, thank you, _Bleufarwe._ Now go to sleep. _Suavis draumer.”_

“You too,” Link returned. The stone’s light died, and he closed his eyes. 

#

On the day that Link was leaving The Fortress, Ganondorf agreed to ride with him to the gate. The motions of waking up that morning and packing up his belongings were a drag to Link. He did his best to stall his departure; a departure that was further delayed when Ganondorf was nowhere to be found within the stronghold.

Nabooru provided the answer quick enough when Link found her. “He’s at the bullbo stables, seeing to a sick female.” She gave Link instructions to the stables, which he had never heard of before that morning. They were built on the far side of the stronghold; away from the horse stables, for they were nervous around each other.

Link approached the door to the bullbo stables on reluctant feet. The building was large, and stank of the boar-like monsters. Their heat pressed on Link from over the walls of their wide stalls. Snorts and squeals sounded often along with the scrape of hooves against the haw-strewn floor. In a stall separated from the others, Link found Ganondorf with the quarantined female bullbo. Her hunched shoulders stood taller than the Gerudo king, and two long horns curled up from her snout. Her thick body was covered in short, brown hair, and her hooves were sharp.

“You keep monsters?” was the first thing to come out of Link’s mouth. He stood warily on the far end of the stall, on the other side of the door.

Ganondorf raised his head from the bullbo’s side; he was listening to her heart. “We tamed our first two pairs a few decades ago, and since then have bred them in captivity. They’re great for heavy pulling.”

“They’re monsters,” Link reiterated. He met the bullbo’s red eyes with a frightened look.

“They’re tame,” Ganondorf assured him. “More or less,” he added with a smile, and Link paled a little. “What’s wrong, little fish?”

Link’s hand went to his abdomen in a subconscious gesture. “I had a bad run-in with a bullbo herd a few years ago.”

“She won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt her,” Ganondorf assured Link. He patted the bullbo’s side and murmured some praise in Gerudian. “Come here.”

Link approached on shuffling feet in a wide arc that kept him out of range of the bullbo’s head. Upon coming to Ganondorf’s side, he was encouraged to pet the bullbo. Link’s hand was reluctant; it hovered inches away from the monster’s hide until Ganondorf seized the wrist and forced the palm against the bullbo. Link found the bullbo’s side warm and twitchy, and coated in wiry hair. He passed his hand along the slick hide a few times and asked, “What’s wrong with her?”

“Twins,” Ganondorf replied. “Bullbos have a single calf, but there’s a rare chance they’ll have twins. It’s always hard, and often we have to cut the mother open to save her and the calves.”

Link shot an alarmed look at the bullbo’s hanging head. “Will she be okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” Ganondorf promised Link. “My girls know what they’re doing. Here, kneel down.” He dropped to his knees, and Link followed suit. “Feel here,” Ganondorf instructed, and he pressed a hand to the underside of the bullbo.

Link did as told with another look to the bullbo’s head, this time of wariness. When he laid his palm against the bullbo’s underside beside Ganondorf’s hand, he felt something move around. A small smile came to his lips. “They’re awake.”

“Not much different from a regular old animal, _neh?”_ Ganondorf said, and Link answered with a reluctant nod of agreement. “They’re not all bad,” Ganondorf continued. “You should try to understand them before you’re forced to chop them to pieces when they attack. They want to live as much as you and me. Take it into consideration, okay?” 

Link nodded again, slower. “What’s her name?” he asked, and he gestured at the bullbo.

“Portia,” Ganondorf replied. “They like to have their ears scratched,” he added.

Link pressed his lips into a thin line, but stood up and edged his way to the bullbo’s head. “Hello, Portia,” he greeted, and he scratched at a silky ear. “Good luck with your babies. I bet they’ll grow up strong. Just don’t spoil them.” The bullbo pressed her snout against Link’s legs and snorted, and the Hylian laughed. When he left the bullbo stables with Ganondorf a short time later, it was with a different reluctance than what he had shown coming to them.

#

It took several days to fall back into a rhythm of finding a new camp every night where there was once a bedroom, and gathering supplies and food when for two months such things were readily available. Yet Link was resilient, and even the finer details of his nomadic lifestyle returned to him by the end of his first week back in Hyrule. It was worth the loss of the luxuries in order to be able to sleep outside once again without the threat of a cold wind ruining his sleep. And returning to the bright, varied landscape of Hyrule Field after two months of sand and stone was like coming across a new land. Summer had arrived, and everything seemed new under the warm sun. Link could only hope the feeling would last.

A day was spent checking in on those who knew Link, reassuring them he was still alive. Colin and Neve greeted him as if he was gone for two years instead of two months. Even Uli seemed pleased. She welcomed Link to stay for lunch; an invitation he took her up on. 

Kukiel and Sakura were just as enthusiastic when Link visited them next. They broke the news of Malon’s engagement to Shad before the horse doctor had stepped out of her house. They had to flee, laughing, when Malon chased them for it.

Malon returned to Link slightly breathless and with a flushed face. “Yes, it’s true,” she said, and she flashed the engagement bracelet on her wrist. “Looks like you were a little too slow, hero.”

“What?” Link said, flustered.

Malon laughed. “Oh Goddesses, your face! Easy, Link, I’m just trying to rib you. You need to relax more, you know? Now come here.” She pulled Link into a hug that he had no time to refuse. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Malon added, speaking into his ear. A lot of people were saying that to Link lately. He had learned silence was the safest answer. 

“Now…” Malon pushed away from Link. “I’m under obligation to tell my fiancé that his favorite specimen is once more amongst the living. He was already writing your epigraph and everything. So if you see a scrawny little Hylian running towards you in Hyrule Field, don’t flee. Promise?” Link nodded. “Good. So what are you up to now that you’re back?

Link told her of numerous things, but the reality was while his day-to-day routine had come back to him, the appeal of filling up the remaining hours was nowhere to be found. In short, while the field itself was refreshing to his eyes, he found general Hyrule to be dull after the concentrated energy of The Fortress. He tried recreating the feeling by visiting Castle Town, yet the animosity he received there drove him back out into the field before long. 

_I need a distraction,_ Link thought as he rode away from Castle Town. He stopped Epona on a rise not far from Castle Town’s curtain wall and scanned the landscape. His eyes found the two ruins that could be seen from the rise. He had visited both of them extensively over the years, but he had always thought the one of the right was hiding more of itself underground. There were strange symbols and peculiar lights that extended down the exposed walls to disappear into the ground, yet Link had never found any entrance to a lower level. 

Link spurred Epona towards the ruins, having decided to try once again to find some way belowground. He rode her to the edge where he had to stop, for the ground became too broken by crumbled stone for her to pass over safely. Link dismounted and patted Epona’s nose before removing his sword and shield from her. A monster could be around any part of the ruins. 

Link advanced on quiet feet. His eyes looked with both curiosity and wariness. He was familiar with the paths through this particular ruin, which took him past many of the outcroppings and broken foundations. Yet Link had never found anything along those paths, so he struck a new one through tall grass. His hands ran along the tan stone that made up the bulk of the ruins. Carved faces watched him walk by with the same stoical expressions they had worn when a society rose and fell around them.

Link climbed up a wide, fallen pillar and slid down the other side. His boots scattered pieces of time-smoothed glass when they landed, and the clinking sounds echoed off a high wall. Link’s eyes were drawn to it where he found a square panel beside a door-shaped indentation. The back of the wall didn’t extend out, but rather sloped down. Link’s eyebrows rose when he recognized the descending shape of an enclosed staircase. He crossed to the wall and put a hand on the indentation. There was a fine crack along its edges; definitely a door then. Yet there was no visible keyhole or opening mechanism. 

Link focused on the square panel next. Eight squared tiles were set into a grid of nine squares, leaving one space open. Link pushed on one of the tiles and found it slid up into the empty space. His finger came away dusty, and the fingerprint revealed a design beneath the cleared dirt. Link sucked in a deep breath and blew on the panel. A cloud of dust was kicked up. It sent him staggering back two steps, coughing. 

Once his nose and throat was clear, Link advanced again and brushed the last of the dust away with his fingers. He found that each tile had a unique design on it made of lines of various thicknesses and angles. None of it made sense, however. Link pushed around the tiles, wondering what their purpose could be. Perhaps it was simply ornamentation, and the proximity to the locked door was a coincidence. Link stopped pushing the tiles when he noticed that two of the eight tiles lined up perfectly, creating a fuller picture where their respective designs met at the edges. 

“It’s a puzzle,” Link murmured. He smiled to himself and fell to rearranging the tiles with more haste. The image came into focus bit by bit until he was only a few slides away from--

“Link! _Link!”_

Link clenched his teeth around a curse and slammed a fist against the wall. He was so close to solving the puzzle! His shoulders tweaked when his fist connected with hard stone. He forced the tension out of them before he turned to climb back over the pillar. He had recognized the voice, and he wasn’t happy to hear it calling his name. 

_“Link!”_ Zelda called again. She sounded breathless and frantic. Link quickened his steps despite his reluctance to see her. 

The princess was atop her horse with two mounted soldiers behind her as escorts. She and the soldiers stood by Epona as they scanned the ruins for Link. When he rounded a broken wall and walked into view, Zelda dismounted and rushed to him. Her escorts called out warnings to be careful, which she ignored.

“There you are!” Zelda’s eyes were rimmed red. Link didn’t object when she took hold of his hand, and he looked on in mounting concern as she cried through an explanation for her distress. “I-I was visiting Uli and the children. I hadn’t seen them in a while, and I had some gifts for them, and I thought it would be a nice day trip to ride out to Ordon and…”

Rusl’s family was good friends with the Royal Family, Link knew, but he wished Zelda would cut to the point. He put his free hand over hers. It appeared to focus her. 

“It’s Colin,” Zelda explained. Link’s stomach iced over. “Uli had to run to a neighbor’s house, so I was watching him and Neve and… and… And he just started coughing, and I was rushing to the town doctor when I saw Epona, and I remembered you had taken care of him before, and--”

Link extracted his hand and rushed to Epona. He secured his weapons to her saddle and took off towards Ordon, which was an hour’s ride away if one followed the roads at an easy pace. He heard Zelda shout an order to her escorts, and the sound of three more galloping horses came to Link’s ears. He didn’t concern himself with waiting for them. He pushed Epona as much as he could without exhausting her, and took shortcuts through fields and villages; the latter earned him angry shouts when he galloped by, cutting across vegetable plots. 

Zelda trailed ten feet behind Link the whole way on her thoroughbred. Her escorts had no hope of keeping up on their less-superior horses. They peeled away on Zelda’s order and headed back for Castle Town, and the doctor that lived there.

Link arrived to Ordon in a third of the usual time. He rode Epona straight up the hill to Uli’s house and dismounted in a leap. His shoulder snapped the door open, and he rushed inside. Neve sat in the main room, looking lost. She pointed Link towards the hall, and he hurried down it to Colin’s bedroom. Zelda’s footsteps sounded on the porch behind him.

Uli was at Colin’s bedside. She backed away so that Link could drop to his knees in her place. Colin lay pale in the bed with his eyes closed. His breaths rattled through his mouth with too much space between them. Link dropped an ear to the boy’s chest and closed his eyes. Behind him, Zelda slipped into the room and whispered reassurances to Uli.

Link opened his eyes and stood up. He looked around the room and, seeing a bureau against the wall, fell to searching the drawers.

“We do not have any,” Uli told him. Link looked to her. “I did not know we were out until I went to look for some. Please, do you know of anything else? Did Rusl ever mention…” She trailed off when Link hurried out of the room. Zelda followed him out of the house and into the woods that surrounded Ordon to find him searching amongst the trees and underbrush. 

“What are you looking for?” Zelda asked. Link moved to a new spot without answering. “Link, I want to help! Talk to me, please! Tell me what you’re looking for!”

Link gritted his teeth and straightened up when the muscles of his back panged. Five years of silence, and now something like this… “Zora pothos,” he replied. “It’s a vine. Big, blue leaves with darker blue swirls like a Zora. But it’s rare around here, and the closest sure location is the Lost Woods, which is almost an hour and a half’s round trip…” He didn’t have to finish.

Zelda took hold of Link’s hand. “We’ll find some,” she said. She split away from him and went searching in the opposite direction. The underbrush snagged at her skirt, and she hiked it up in one hand. Link didn’t see her again for several minutes. He finally heard her voice calling him, and he hurried towards it. The princess met him on her way back; she had a handful of broad, blue leaves. 

“I found some!” Zelda exclaimed. Her good cheer faltered when Link only stared at the leaves. “Link? What’s wrong? Come on, Colin needs these, right?” She shoved the leaves into Link’s hands. 

Link’s eyes narrowed. He spared the princess a dark look before turning and hurrying away towards Colin’s house. Zelda followed on his heels, doing her best to keep up with his longer strides. Once inside the house, Link went to the kitchen where he began to pull out bowls and utensils. He carried it all in his arms with a box of matches in his mouth to Colin’s room, and then reemerged to collect more supplies from the washroom.

“Do you need help?” Zelda asked when Link went by her with a second armful. She followed him down the hall. “Link, let me--”

Link kicked Colin’s bedroom door shut in her face.

A half-hour crept by. In the main room, Uli made tea for herself and Zelda, and reassured Neve with murmured words. They all looked up at the sound of a door opening and closing down the hall. The collected uneasiness dissipated when Link came into the room and smiled at Uli and Neve.

“He’ll be fine. He’s breathing well again. I told him to rest for a while.”

Neve wiggled off of Uli’s lap. “Can I go see him?” she asked Link. He nodded, and the girl took off down the hall with a happy squeal. Her mother followed after she embraced Link in thanks. 

Zelda stood up from her seat on the sofa. “I’m so relieved to hear he’s okay,” she said to Link. He spared her a glower before leaving the house. “Link?” 

Zelda followed Link outside. He ignored her and headed down the hill to where Epona was drinking from the stream. Zelda watched on in silence as he fell to inspecting the mare for any strains or injuries from the hard run. Epona tried more than once to move towards where Zelda stood, but Link deterred her with gentle tugs on her reins. 

“Are you going to give me anything except dark looks?” Zelda finally asked in a hard voice. “What have I done this time?” 

Link straightened out of a crouch by Epona’s front hooves. The muscles in his back felt like they were on fire. Had he strained something, somehow? Perhaps while climbing in the ruins? He rolled his shoulders and met Zelda’s firm look with another glower. “Those Zora pothos leaves weren’t fresh. They had been picked hours before. What did you do--pluck them as you were on your way here to play out this little charade?”

Zelda scoffed. “Are you trying to accuse me of something?” she asked. Her gaze was steady, but Link knew a lifetime growing up under Impa had taught the princess a thing or two about successfully passing a lie. He also knew if he kept pressing her, her guilt would force her to admit to whatever she had done.

“Were you that desperate to talk to me that you were willing to put Colin’s life at risk?” Link snapped. “You just had to hear my voice once more, right? Well guess what--you got your wish. And just so you know, this will be the absolute last time I’ll ever speak to you again.”

“It was Colin’s idea!” Zelda rushed out. No sooner was the last word out did she cover her mouth with both hands. “He knows we haven’t spoken in years,” Zelda continued, speaking through her hands, while Link stared at her in disbelief. “He wanted to help.”

Link shook his head. “You’re a liar,” he spat. “Colin wouldn’t have come up with something like this on his own!” Zelda attempted to speak, but Link overrode her. “And even if he did, what kind of person agrees to a ten-year-old’s idea? An idea that puts his life at risk? What idiot _does_ that?”

Zelda dropped her hands and straightened her back. “I do,” she said with a high chin. “The princess of Hyrule. You forget your place, Link. You may be my friend and a favorite of Impa’s, but that doesn’t justify how you’re behaving towards me right now.”

“Yeah? Well excuse me, _princess,_ but royal blood doesn’t justify stupidity!” Link shouted. 

Zelda’s nostrils flared, and the next second Link tasted the stream. The princess had pushed him down into the water. Epona whinnied and moved away as Link raised his head with a sputtering cough and shook his wet hair out of his face. The stream gurgled past him with a sound like laughter.

Zelda crouched down on the stream’s bank and folded her arms atop her knees. “Are you okay?” she asked. There was concern in her voice, but also the hard edge of anger.

Link nodded. “Yeah. I… I don’t know what came over me just then.” He closed his eyes and didn’t speak for almost half a minute before he said, “I’m sorry. For everything.” Link covered his face with a wet hand. His mouth worked into a grimace. “I’ve been so terrible to you.”

Zelda nodded. “That’s putting it lightly.” She straightened up and walked into the stream. Her skirt billowed out with the current when she sunk into the water to wrap an arm around Link’s waist. Her cheek dropped down onto his shoulder. “You can start repaying me by answering the gossip stone more often. You’re not alone, Link. Not by a long shot. Don’t fool yourself into thinking otherwise, or I’ll have to remind you again.”

Link let out a deep sigh. His body flexed with the act and he discovered the pain was gone from his back. The cold water of the stream appeared to have soothed it. He disengaged himself from Zelda’s grip and stood up to gain the shore. 

“Link…” Zelda stood up as well and joined him. “Won’t you come home?” She faltered when Link looked to her in disbelief, but continued in a sure voice, “I want you to come home. Whatever’s bothering you… It was wrong of me to push you away because of it. Come home, and we can work through it all. Things can be good again.”

Link could only shake his head at the suggestion. “I have no home,” he reminded the princess. “It was destroyed--tainted by a monster. And I only attract more. You really want me at the castle? After what happened to my tribe? After what happened to Master Rusl?”

“Maybe there’s a cure for whatever is attracting these monsters to you--” Zelda broke off when Link walked away from her. He clicked his tongue, and Epona walked over to him. “Link, please just talk to me. _Listen.”_ Link ignored her. “You’re just going to leave then? Without saying goodbye to Uli or the kids?”

“Uli doesn’t expect a goodbye,” Link snapped back. “And if I go in there to talk to Colin, I’ll only yell at him.” He spared Zelda a dark look. “Neve doesn’t need to see that.”

“You don’t have to be angry with him. Or with me,” Zelda pointed out. “It’s your choice.”

“But I am angry,” Link told her. “My apology was sincere,” he added when he saw her face drop, “but I can’t go in there and pretend everything’s fine. I need some time alone.”

“That’s all you ever have,” Zelda remarked. “Obviously it’s not working.” Link swung up into Epona’s saddle. “I’ll be at the castle if you want to talk,” Zelda added before he rode away. Link had no reply, and he soon vanished down the road out of Ordon. 

##########

**Translations:**

_Yerka.”:_ [Gerudian] “Jerk.”

_“Agesumt.”:_ [Gerudian] “Awesome.”

_orrhos:_ [Sheikan] ass

_“Shyttuf!”:_ [Sheikan] “Shut up!”

_bealte:_ [Sheikan] beautiful

_Suavis draumer:_ [Sheikan] Sweet dreams


	12. A Link to the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link returns to a ruin to continue his exploration, and he comes across an object that could return his past to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's quite a bit of Sheikan in this chapter. The translations are at the end of the text. Knowing what is spoken isn't vital, as it doesn't add much to the story, but it could be fun to figure it out before checking the translations!
> 
> This chapter makes me wish AO3 had a simple italics button instead of html tags.

# -Blue Arrow-

### A Link to the Past

Down the rise a vegetable field was spread over a square area, giving the section of Hyrule Field devoted to it a rougher look. People from the nearby village of Kakariko walked along the rows with baskets on their backs. They often ducked behind high tomato plants, or dug beneath bunches of leaves, before standing up with one or two handfuls of fresh pickings. Wide straw hats kept the sun off their heads and the back of their necks. 

Link looked up from the carrot he was slicing and once more scanned the horizon. From the rise where he was perched in his saddle atop Epona, he could see for miles. There were still no dangers, so he looked down again and shaved off a last piece of carrot for himself. The remaining three inches he tossed to the ground in front of Epona’s head. They both crunched through their share while clouds slipped overhead, trailing shadows on the ground. 

A goat herder walked by, followed by seven white goats. Epona raised her head and whinnied a greeting at a curious goat that drew close to her. Link was watching the herder, but his eyes shifted when he saw movement in the tall grass close by. 

Link took hold of Epona’s reins and spurred her into the open space between the goat herder and the tall grass. The man looked up at Link with wary curiosity, but otherwise continued walking. Link kept pace with him while his eyes stayed fixed on the brown wildcat he could see within the grass. The animal wasn’t put off by Epona’s presence, and it inched closer into pouncing distance. Link shot an arrow to deter it. The arrow nicked the wildcat across its back, and it yowled before taking off towards a distant collection of rocks.

Once the animal was gone, Link dismounted and stepped into the grass to seek his arrow. The goat herder couldn’t stop expressing his thanks when Link returned to Epona. The Regn Hylian accepted the gratitude with his signature silence and climbed back into the saddle to return to the rise. 

A kargaroc was the next threat. It circled in over the vegetable patch with its unmistakable bleat-like call. Link took in its loneliness (kargarocs were social monsters) and the missing feathers that broke up the bird’s silhouette. He readied another arrow and spurred Epona down the rise. A weak, solitary kargaroc made for a hungry kargaroc, which meant desperation. Sure enough, the monster dove down at the Hylians before Link reached the patch. Link let his arrow fly; it clipped a few more feathers from the monster’s right wing. The kargaroc broke out of its dive and regained altitude with an indignant cry. Link followed it until it was over the edge of the vegetable patch. His next arrow downed the monster.

Link spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning the carcass of its spoils--the golden plumes, the powerful beak, and the slender wing bones--all the while keeping an eye on both the area and on Epona; the mare often picked up on things before him. He was wiping the blood and down off of his hands against the grass when a shadow fell over him. He sighed and braced himself.

“They wouldn’t be here if you weren’t,” the villager accused.

Link debated on an answer. He could tell the man that he was trying to keep some amount of control over the monster attraction; that by staying in one place he could pick off any threats that might come along. But he knew what the man’s answer would be: _Stay at a place away from us._

This was Impa’s fault. She had suggested a week ago that Link should capitalize on his peculiar circumstances by allowing people to see him take care of threats in a controlled manner. Yet for the most part, it was only reinforcing the peoples’ dislike for him. They were also beginning to blame other misfortunes on Link when he was around; things like the earlier wildcat, or an ill breeze that downed an old fruit tree two days ago when he was passing along.

Link straightened up, picked up his bag of spoils, and walked away from the villager to where Epona was enjoying a few mouthfuls of grass. A click of his tongue had her carrying him away from the vegetable patch. As he rode, he heard a voice calling his name from within one of his waist pouches. Link sighed as he dug out the blue stone. Since breaking his silence to Zelda nearly two weeks ago, not a day had gone by without either her or Impa calling on him.

“How’s your day going?” Zelda asked through her stone once Link had activated his. Link didn’t bother to reply. Zelda knew idle chatter didn’t work with him, but that didn’t stop her from trying. “I just wanted to give you a heads up. Someone said you were frequenting Kakariko lately. Well, there’s been a rogue kargaroc hanging around there. It’s been making swipes at villagers. If you see it, could you take care of it?”

Link looked down at the bag hanging from his saddle. “Sure,” he replied. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Thank you!” Link could hear the smile in Zelda’s voice, and he found himself smiling too. “Their golden plumes are really popular right now. If you bring them to the castle, I can see about getting you a good price for them.”

Link rolled his eyes, although Zelda couldn’t see the gesture. His voice hinted laughter when he replied, “I don’t think so.”

Zelda sighed. “It was a nice try, right?”

“Better than the stubbed toe excuse,” Link told her.

Zelda laughed. “Yeah, that one was pretty bad, huh?” she said, and Link chuckled. “All right, well… You know where to find me if you need me.”

Link looked up from the stone, not wanting to address Zelda’s motherly tone, and his eyes found a familiar sight. “Uh-huh,” he answered in a distracted voice. “I have to go.” 

“Okay, have a…” The rest of Zelda’s goodbye was muffled by the waist pouch. 

Link rode Epona to the edge of the ruins in an air of anticipation. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten about the place, and the discovery he had almost made about it. Upon reaching the ruins’ edge, he stopped Epona and looked around for any immediate dangers or people. The ruins were quiet with only birdsong and rustling trees as a backdrop. After dismounting, Link secured his sword and shield on his back, added his bow after a moment’s thought, and strode into the tall grass that grew amongst the ruins. 

The fallen pillar was easy to find. Link climbed up it and slid down as he had weeks ago. The tile puzzle was still in the same position he had left it. He slid the last few pieces around until the image became clear; it looked vaguely like a face. With the last tile in place, the image flashed with a blue light, and more dust puffed out of the cracks between the tiles. A hiss sounded to Link’s left. He looked towards it in time to see dust billowing away from a seam that had appeared around the door-like indentation. Link moved over to the door and brushed his fingertips against its surface. The door slid up into the surrounding wall, revealing a descending staircase, just as Link had thought it would.

Lines of blue light traced their way down the walls of the staircase. Link ran his fingers along one, recognizing the blue glow of his specialized arrowhead. So this was another ruin of the same kind where he had found the peculiar, yet effective, weapon. Could there be more such artifacts inside? On the tail of these musings, Link was reminded of what else he had found at the similar ruin. He touched the hilt of his sword to reassure himself before he descended. The metal stairs clanged with each fall of his boots. 

The lights in the wall provided enough illumination for Link to see the path before him. The stairs led to another door that opened at his touch. It slid shut behind him once he was through, but he didn’t notice. His eyes were fixed on the large room that the door had opened on. Link had no names for the box-like structures that sat on the edges of the room; or for the strange walkways leading out from them. These walkways sagged under his feet, but didn’t break. Across the openings from where the walkways emerged, Link found something similar to cucco wire was strung up and down the whole length. The wire was further reinforced by jagged pieces of steel that pricked his hand when he dared to touch it. Yet most peculiar of all was the silence. The blue lights shined from the walls, but everything else was dusty and still. 

The similar ruin Link had visited in the past had not gone as deep as this one, so he was struck dumb several times as he took in all of the nameless structures that made up the high-ceilinged room. He found a wooden ladder that climbed the side of a boxy object, but it fell apart in his hands when he took hold of a rung. A second ladder not far off was made of firmer steel, and Link climbed it to take in a broader view. On the walls of the room he noticed strange faces like the one that was on the tile puzzle outside. Their features were dulled by the dirt that had fallen into the cracks of the engravings. 

From his new, higher vantage, Link noticed more doors on the far side, but they were covered in the spiky wire. While Link contemplated on cutting through the wire with his sword, he noticed something in the corner of his eye. He turned towards it and saw what he thought at first to be a giant lantern hanging from the middle of the room’s ceiling. It had the same square shape with open sides, revealing a large, purple stone within. Link focused his sharp eyes and saw a white etching in the stone that reminded him of the Sheikah crest. 

Inspiration came to Link. He took his bow in hand, notched an arrow, and fired it at the stone. The arrow rebounded, broken, and the stone lit up with a brilliant blue light. The light swept out over the room, expanding to the farthest walls and to the low floor. Everything that the light touched came to life. Brown dirt and dust was swept away to be replaced by vivid color and bright, moving lights. The boxy structures whirred with movement and sound; the one beneath Link’s feet sent its vibrations up through his body. The sharp wire vanished from the entrances and doors, and the strange walkways began to move. Rocks and precious gems slid along these latter’s lengths to fall into carts on the ground floor below.

Link was at the wall, his arms splayed and tense against it. He stared with wide eyes and a pattering heart at the room that had come to life. A minute passed in anxious silence before he finally took a deep breath, held it, and stepped away from the wall. Nothing attacked him, and he relaxed enough to ease the strain in his limbs. He walked to the edge of the structure he was upon and looked down to watch the rocks slip by below. 

“It’s a mine,” Link murmured. He lifted his head and looked around with a smile on his face. “Dad, if you could only see this. You would never bother with diving for relics in Lake Hylia again.” Link spun around, taking in the whole room again. He staggered when he nearly tripped over the edge of the structure. He stumbled back into the safer middle and laughed in both relief and delight. 

Once Link felt he could move without shaking apart in awe, he jumped down from the structure and began to make his way across the room. The moving walkways were the hardest parts to cross. Link had to leap over them to avoid a potentially fatal fall into the carts below. He considered taking a few of the gems that passed by, but thought better of it and continued on until he reached another door that opened with a touch of his hand.

The room beyond was dusty and much run down; sand filled most of the floor space. Link gave the sand a prod when he saw the strange look of it. He backed away the next second, recognizing quicksand, and returned to the moving walkway room to choose another door.

The second door led to a hall blocked by large, metal boxes. Link noticed a path could be traversed over the top of the boxes. He backed up to the door and sprinted forward to run up the first box’s side. It took a second try before he was able to hook his fingers over the edge. He pulled himself up, rolled over the edge, and gained his feet. Long poles from the top of the boxes led up into a high, dark ceiling. Link studied them as he walked by. More and more, the complexity of the mine was reminding him of the inner workings of a clock. Yet no clockmaker in Hyrule knew how to expand and apply their craft like this. Who, then, created all of this? Link walked along, thinking on the light that had awakened the mine. A theory was coming to mind, but it was so far-fetched…

Twice more, Link had to drop down and run up the side of another set of boxes before the hallway curved to a new door. It was a standard hinged door. Link had to push it open, leaning on it with his shoulder when the rusty hinges fought against the act. The top hinge gave out with a tired snap, and the bottom hinge went as well when all of the door’s support fell to it. Link hurried away as the door fell to the floor in a dusty boom of sound. In his haste, he tripped over something on the floor of the room, and he spent a second or two regaining his balance. 

A pile of rocks had tripped Link--or so it seemed, until the Hylian crouched to better inspect the pile. His breath caught in his throat when he saw it was in truth the fossilized remains of a small creature. The creature had a face much like the ones Link had seen on the tile puzzle and inside the mine. Did that mean these creatures were responsible for the mine’s creation? Link straightened up with a thoughtful look on his face. He spun around to take in the rest of the room.

It was a small room, and for the most part unremarkable. Link’s eyes were drawn to the most prominent feature: a low, wide dais at the back of the room. In the middle of the dais, a metal cradle held an angular orb that was slightly smaller than the size of Link’s head. It was made of metal, yet openings in the design revealed a deep purple color much like the stone Link had struck in the main room of the mine. He approached the orb, drawing out his sword as he did. A hard rap with the blade brought the strange light out of the purple sides, turning the dark stone to a brilliant blue. The light fanned out of the orb and splashed against the floor, walls, and ceiling. The dust vanished, and color became the norm once more.

Link sheathed his sword, crouched, and put his hands around the orb. It had some weight to it, but he was able to pick it up without much effort. He turned it in his hands, admiring it from all angles, until a sound behind him caught his ears.

The first thing Link noticed when he spun around was the door. It was no longer lying on the ground with broken hinges. It was in place in its frame, and bright with newness. He studied the door until a movement to the right of it caught his eye. Link looked towards the movement and saw the fossilized remains were no longer fossilized.

Link gasped and dropped the orb. It hit the dais hard, and the blue light winked out. The colors vanished from the walls, and the door reappeared on the floor in a blur of movement too quick for Link to see. The orb rolled away and came to a stop against it. 

On shaky feet, Link crossed the distance to the orb. He once more struck it with his sword. The light bloomed again, and Link watched the door reappear in its frame in another blur of movement. Wary, he turned towards what the fossilized remains had become.

It was a short being, vaguely peanut shaped with an odd ornament--almost a crown--on its head. The ornament was dark brown with touches of color, while the rest of the being was tan in color. It had no legs, instead moving about by rolling on a wide, red wheel. Its circular hands were attached to its body by blue lines of what Link assumed was sorcery. The blue color was similar to the purple stones, as well as his specialized arrow. Were all of those related things actually sorcery?

The being turned towards Link, revealing the face Link had already seen on the mine’s walls. The simple features never moved, even when the being spoke. The language was Hylian intermixed with bursts of static, and with little to no inflection.

_“Bzzt._ What are you doing with that timeshift orb, Hylian?” the being asked. Its peculiar hands gestured towards the orb lying on the ground. “Those are too dangerous for Hylians to handle. _Vrrrm.”_

Link looked down at the orb, and then at the door, while the being’s words played over and over in his head. The theory he had earlier contemplated and then dismissed as far-fetched no longer seemed impossible. He raised his sword and struck the orb once more. The light vanished, and the dust returned, as did the dilapidated state of the room. Link’s hand trembled when he struck the orb yet again. 

The being came to life, and something within it whirred. _“Vrrrrrm._ Is your cloaking fuse out of order, Hylian?” it asked Link. “You have vanished and reappeared twice now. _Zrrpt.”_

Link didn’t know how to answer that. “Who are you?” he asked the being. “What’s your name?”

The being whizzed and whirred and clunked before answering, “I am an LD-301 series of artificial life forms. _Bzzt-zrrp._ My operating code is LD-301G, designation ‘Guardian’. _Zzzzt._ I am responsible for the protection of this particular timeshift orb. _Vrrrrrrm.”_

Very little of the answer made sense to Link, but at least now he had a name to use when addressing the being. “Guardian,” he said, and the being clicked, “what is a timeshift orb?”

_“Zzzp-bzzt._ The timeshift orbs are manufactured to allow the ease of transporting small chunks of timeshift stones. _Bzzzt,”_ Guardian answered. “We use these to supply power to our mines. _Vrrt._ However, they are not safe for Hylians to handle. _Bzzzzzzt._ Over many centuries, timeshift stones absorb the energy and imprint of time, _zrrpt,_ and can become volatile when disturbed, leading to reversed time phenomena when the absorbed energy is released. _Vrrrrrrrm.”_

“What do you mean by that?” Link asked with a shake of his head.

“If an aged timeshift stone is struck, it can reverse time in the area around it. _Bzzzt-zrrrrpt.”_

“Reverse time? How could that be dang--” Link cut himself off, and his eyes widened with a sudden possibility. 

Guardian made a sound that was similar to laughter. _“Zrrpt-zrrpt-zrppt._ We don’t have to worry about that with this timeshift orb. _Bzzzt._ The stone within it was cut only a few months ago. Timeshift stones need several hund--Hey! _Bzzzzzt-vrrrrpt-zrrrrrrpt._ Hylian, please bring the timeshift orb back! _Vrrrrrrm.”_ Guardian took chase after Link. The Hylian had picked up the orb, opened the door, and vanished down the hall. The being was unable to keep up with the circle of light around Link’s fast-moving form. Soon, the edge of the light slipped past Guardian, and it collapsed into a fossilized pile once more.

Link rushed through the mine’s main room and hurried up the stairs, making the staircase ring with his footfalls. Outside, pillars and broken rock rose out of Link’s path as he passed by them in the circle of the timeshift orb’s light. He paid no attention to the fascinating phenomenon. His mind was miles ahead on a distant, dry lakeshore.

Link reached Epona slightly out of breath. He struck the timeshift orb to extinguish its light and tucked it away into a saddlebag. Epona broke into a gallop under Link’s urging, and for a quarter-hour she carried him across Hyrule Field at a high speed. Link was forced to slow her down, however, when he noticed he was driving her too fast. At a slower pace, he held the reins tight in his hands and looked forward towards the horizon. His eyes often spared a glance for the saddlebag that held the timeshift orb.

The remains of Silbarine grew on the horizon first as dots, and then as discernible shapes. Link left Epona on the edge of the area, as he wasn’t sure how she would react to a village coming to life around her. His hands trembled when he took out the timeshift orb. He nearly dropped it once it was clear of the bag; it was held close to the chest afterwards. Halfway through Silbarine, Link remembered the wolfos from his visit before. He returned to Epona, grabbed his bow, and went back into the village.

First, Link was going to hug everyone he could. Then, he was going to have dinner with Aryll again. He would tell her everything that had happened, and he would apologize until his voice gave out. And then, he could sleep in his own bed once more. And then…

Link stopped in front of the remains of his home. His heart pattered in his chest; he could hear it in his ears. Within the doorway rotted the remnants of a toppled chair. Link put the timeshift orb down in front of the house and took out his sword to strike it. He had the sword pointed down when he realized he could be setting himself up for disappointment. There was no telling if the timeshift orb would work outside the borders of the ruins. Link put away his blade, picked up the timeshift orb, and carried it away from the village. He followed the curve of the lakeshore until he was a quarter of the distance around the hollow. He wanted to see how far the light expanded--if it worked at all. 

The timeshift orb was placed on the ground a few feet away from the lakeshore. Link took out his sword once more. It took him a minute to steady it in his hands before he brought its edge down on the timeshift orb.

The blue light bloomed out of the timeshift orb as it had in the mine. It expanded a rough twenty feet in each direction, creating a circle with a diameter of about forty feet. A bright, blue line marked the edge of the circle. Within it, bright grass had replaced the barren ground, and insects buzzed over the flowers that dotted the area. The light had expanded over Lake Helvus as well, creating a half-circle of clear water beyond the shore. Link dropped down to his knees by the lakeshore and allowed the low, incoming waves to dance over his fingers. It was like cool silk against his skin. He laughed and wiped tears from his eyes.

Link had to swim in the lake. The temptation was too much to deny. He rolled the timeshift orb a few feet closer to the waterline to give himself as much swimming room as possible. His clothes and boots fell into a pile beside it, and he waded into the welcoming water. The timeshift orb’s light extended far enough into deep water that Link was able to submerge himself with a few feet of extra room. Helvus Lake was as clear and beautiful as he remembered. He surfaced, sucked in the deepest breath he could, and dove down again. 

Link swam to the edge of the timeshift orb’s reach and stuck a hand out into dry, empty air. He watched his fingers open and close beyond the watery wall before drawing them in again. He dove to the bottom next and buried both hands into the loose bed of the lake. Every pebble and grain of sand pressing into his palms brought him bliss. It was the same as he remembered, and it was real. He opened his mouth, and the lake’s water slipped across his tongue, as pure as it ever was.

After a half-hour’s swim, Link regained the shore and dropped against the revived ground to dry in the summer sun. Even the rough blades of grass felt the same. He turned his head to take in the grass and flowers, and to smell the bright scent of the earth beneath it all. He frowned when he saw a flower he didn’t recognize. Its petals were a vivid pink, and the leaf shape was peculiar. Link searched his mind for all of the plants he had memorized at Rusl’s side. Coming to no answer, he closed his eyes to relish the warmth of the sun instead.

Long after his skin and hair was dry, Link lingered on the lakeshore. He looked up at the passing clouds and wondered why his stomach was twisting itself into knots. He could be with Aryll and his tribe within a few minutes. All he had to do was get dressed, take the timeshift orb into the village, and activate it. So long as he kept it near or on him, he could be alongside his tribe for the rest of his life. He was already thinking ahead on a leather pouch he could create for the timeshift orb, which would hang on his waist. 

The day was waning; the sun was already halfway from its noon position, heading towards sunset. Link pushed himself up and redressed. He took extra care to make sure his clothes and hair were just right, that his necklaces hung straight on his neck, and his bracelet was snug on wrist. He was looking forward to telling Aryll how he had come to own them. He wondered how surprised she would be to see him aged. Would she recognize him? Of course she would. She had to.

Link struck the timeshift orb, killing its light for now. He didn’t want to cross the ground with the light active, as there was no telling where a hole would appear from the past to twist an ankle. He kept an eye open for wolfos as well, but so far it appeared the bow around his chest would be unneeded. 

Link doubled his pace when he reached the village. He walked a familiar path to his home and once more put down the timeshift orb in front of it. If possible, the shake in his hand when he took out his sword was doubled from before; the point wavered above the timeshift orb. After almost two minutes had passed, Link took in his last breath of the present world, held it, and dropped the sword’s point. It sparked against the timeshift orb, and blue light burst out in all directions. Link opened his eyes to watched it spread over his home.

The house disappeared.

Link didn’t register this at first. His anticipation had already painted over the ruins with the sturdy lines of his returned home. It wasn’t until he blinked and put away his blade did he realize something had gone wrong. The village around him had indeed come to life, however there were buildings that were out of place or gone altogether, and more of the strange, pink flowers grew amongst those that were there. 

Link spun around. People walked through the circle of light, flickering in or out of existence when they reached the blue line that served as the border. They spoke Hylian, and the men wore tunics like Link’s own, but none of the faces were familiar. Link searched every one, thinking he had simply forgotten them over the years. But that didn’t explain why his home was gone, or where the flowers had come from, or why a few of the people were looking at him as if he was a stranger. Surely they recognized him? Or his parents’ features in his face? 

_Over many centuries, timeshift stones absorb the energy and imprint of time…_

_Over many centuries…_

_Over many…_

“No.” Link backed up, tripped over the timeshift orb, and fell to his rear. “No, no, nonono it was supposed to be fixed, it was supposed to be… Why? Why, why… Why do things always…” He shifted backwards across the ground until he came to a stop against an unfamiliar house. There, he clutched at his bangs and sobbed, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair…”

“Hey, are you okay?” a voice above Link asked. A hand touched his hunched shoulder, and he jerked, gasping. He looked up into the face of a Regn Hylian woman. She offered him a reassuring smile when their eyes met. “Can you stand?” she asked next, and she held out a hand. 

Link took the hand, and the woman helped him to his feet. Her grip was warm and solid around his fingers. She was as real as everything else around him; as real as the water he had swam in not long before. He could feel her pulse beneath her skin. Link struggled to get words through his dry mouth. “What…” He stopped. The woman looked on with patient curiosity in her eyes. “What is the date?” He had to know. He had to know for sure if…

The woman smiled. “Silly,” she remarked in a playful way. “It’s the second month of summer, on the twenty-second, in the one thousand and fourteenth year of our Goddesses. Hey, do I know you? I’ve never seen you before, but you’re Regn, aren’t you?”

Link barely registered the question. A thousand years to the day. That was how far back the landscape had changed in response to the timeshift orb’s power. A thousand years of stored time energy… He would never live long enough to see his tribe again, even if he was to stay connected to this strange past. Another punch to the gut from the Goddesses. 

“Hey…” The woman’s touch came to Link’s shoulder again. He opened his eyes, surprised to find he was bent over as if sick. He straightened up and met the woman’s concerned eyes. “You don’t look very well. Is something wrong?”

Surely she could see the answer in his face and shaking limbs? Link raised a hand and wiped sweat from his brow, beneath his bangs. His nod brought a smile to the woman’s face again, and she turned her head to call, “Brock!”

A male Regn Hylian jogged into view across the timeshift orb’s cast border, but it was the person who followed him that caught Link’s attention more. There was no mistaking the red eyes of a Sheikah, even if the person’s clothes and half mask hid the rest of their features. A long braid of blonde hair and two pointed ears were the only other discernible traits. The Sheikah smiled at Link with their eyes when they drew near with the man who was identified as Brock.

“Cresta, hello,” Brock greeted the Regn woman with a cheerful smile. He eyed Link next. “Who’s your friend?”

“You mean he isn’t one of yours?” Cresta asked. She frowned. “You know everybody in the tribe.”

Brock laughed. “Apparently not.” He offered Link a hand. “What’s your name, friend?”

“Link.” 

“Link, huh?” Brock nodded in approval of the name, and then turned to the Sheikah at his side. “Do you know him, Sheik?” The Sheikah shook their head. 

An impulse drove Link to say, _“Sheikan, ic sayti.”_

Sheik smiled with their eyes again. _“Oh, eow don?”_ They jerked their head towards Brock. “He doesn’t even try to learn.” 

Link smiled a little when Brock rolled his eyes, and he added, _“Pietae.”_

_“Ic nosere!”_ Sheik replied, and their eyes widened. _“Den eow turbla haben leorina?”_

Link shrugged. _“Juvenish, ic fui. Theat helfan.”_

_“Ic seura. Hwa eald eow den?”_

_“Octo.”_

_“Ah, theat juvenish?”_

Brock cleared his throat. “How long do you two plan on excluding us?” he asked with a kind smile.

“Oh.” Sheik laughed and switched to Hylian. “I’m sorry, but it’s always interesting to hear a non-Sheikan speak our language. And your accent isn’t half bad,” they added to Link. “You must have had a great teacher.”

_“Ic den,”_ Link said, nodding. _“Sye fui lenareles.”_ He mimed getting smacked over the head, and he smiled when Sheik laughed again.

“Sheik is a good friend of ours, from a Sheikah tribe that lives near the castle,” Cresta explained to Link. “But where did you come from?” she asked Link next. “Our village isn’t _that_ big. Are there other Regn settlements somewhere in Hyrule?” 

“Ah… Yes,” Link replied. His mirth died away. “Far, far away. I, um… I heard about your beautiful lake, and I was in the area to trade anyway, so I thought I would stop by.”

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Brock remarked. He, Cresta, and Sheik all turned to Link’s left. He turned as well, but he couldn’t see the lake’s shore beyond the reach of the timeshift orb. And yet… Link looked at Cresta, Brock, and Sheik. There was a sense of unity here. They weren’t _his_ tribe, but they _were_ his tribe--even Sheik. Link found his earlier dreams of staying with Aryll replaced by the idea of making a home in this age instead. He could find happiness here, he was sure of it.

Link’s dreams dried up when Brock continued, “But it’s in danger,” His voice and eyes dropped, and he added, “We all are.”

Sheik put a hand on Brock’s shoulder. “I told you I can fix it,” they said. “Once the seal is in place, that Dark Wolfos will never be able to threaten this tribe again.”

“What?” Link’s soft exclamation was overridden by Cresta’s enthusiasm.

“Finally!” the Regn woman said, clapping her hands together. “I’m so tired of sleepless nights. It’s in its cave right now, isn’t it?”

Sheik nodded. “It will never hear me approach. I’ll place the seal over the cave, and it can spend the rest of its long life in solitude and hunger.”

_“No!”_ Link shouted. Cresta and her friends started in the wake of the exclamation. “You can’t seal it up!” Link continued, almost stuttering in his panic. “It will get out and kill every one of my… every one of you!”

“Impossible,” Sheik replied. They straightened into a confident stance. “Not even that beast’s master will be able to free it. The seal will be bound by a word no one will ever know.”

_I’ll know,_ Link argued in his mind. How to tell them… How to tell them of a boy’s dream in the far future that would undo everything… “Can’t you just kill it?” he offered instead. His voice cracked.

Brock shook his head, and Cresta answered, “We’ve tried many times, with both weapons and traps. The beast is too powerful and wily. We’ve lost tribe members with each battle, and only for a few tufts of fur cut out of that monster’s pelt.”

“This is the best way to handle things,” Brock picked up. “For us and for future generations of our tribe. Sheik, you couldn’t have come at a better time. Thank you again.” He turned and shook Sheik’s hand. “Will you need any help getting up the mountain?”

“No, thank you, but it’s best if I go alone. I can move faster and quieter--”

_“Watch out!”_

Cresta’s warning mattered little; Link was too quick for the others to react. His first arrow buried its head into the ground by Cresta’s foot. She screamed in fear and ran away to vanish over the timeshift orb’s border. Brock was next to flee when Link aimed a second arrow at him. The other villagers picked up on the panic and emptied the circle, screaming. 

Only Sheik remained. They swung an arm out to attack, but Link was familiar with a Sheikah’s matter of offense and defense, and he had the Gorons’ training on his side as well. He relaxed his bow in one hand and raised his free arm to block Sheik’s first blow. He retaliated, but Sheik jerked out of his reach. A quick leg swept out next, aiming to knock Link off his feet. He leapt out of range and fired an arrow before Sheik could straighten back up. The arrow punched through the Sheikah’s outstretched leg, and they dropped fully to the ground with a cry of pain. Their curses died at the sight of the arrow aimed at their head. 

“Link…” Sheik shuffled back on the seat of their pants. “Link, what are you doing?”

Link couldn’t answer the question because he didn’t know the answer. He couldn’t recall taking the bow in hand or drawing the first arrow that had scared off Cresta. He didn’t know what was holding the current arrow taut against the bowstring. “You can’t seal it away,” he said instead. He blinked tears out of his eyes. “You can’t seal it away.”

“I must, Link, for the good of this tri--” Sheik broke off into another cry of pain when Link’s arrow sliced through their ear. 

Link drew a new arrow before he could comprehend the decision to do so. Were his hands steadier, the previous arrow would have struck Sheik in the middle of their head. Link watched the point dance and tremble. His undershirt and tunic were clinging uncomfortably to his back; damp with what was likely sweat, as his back felt like it was on fire. The heat was what was putting the shake in his arms. 

Sheik dropped their hand from the bleeding ear and raised it towards Link. _“Eow dedent vanta dese._ Link, listen to me. Tell me what’s wrong. What did I do?”

_“You can’t seal it away!”_ Link shouted. He dropped his bow to the ground; it was useless in his hands for the moment. He drew his sword and gripped the hilt in both hands as he raised it over Sheik.

Sheik cried out and covered their head with their arms. Their skewered leg twitched. _“Min Gotess, ic belifan eow min liban en eower hant--”_

_Helped itself to the whole little tribe, didn’t it? …I wonder how it came across such a feast._

_“--thedoh ic precari--”_

_When are you going to grow out of that tunic, Link?_

_“--eowvel salva--”_

_You must learn to let things go._

The sword’s shadow lay across Sheik’s head, shuddering. 

_Thank you, Onii-san, for everything._

_Th-thank you so much, Onii-san!_

_“--placare salva--”_

_Keep those who care about you in mind before you make any selfish decisions._

Link sucked in a harsh breath. The sword’s hilt was numbing his clenched hands. He could feel tears running down his eyes. He had to do this. If he didn’t, it would be killing his tribe all over again. He clenched his eyes shut and once more told himself to drop the blade. His back felt like some massive bird was sinking its talons deep into it.

_You’re not alone, Link. Not by a long shot._

Yes he was. _He was._ And he would be forever if he didn’t--

Sheik was crying. Link heard the sound, mixed with their prayers, and he opened his eyes. He tried to find pity for the person at his feet, but all he could see was a devastated village splattered with blood. 

_“Placare…”_ Sheik sobbed. _“Placare Din, Nayru, Fa--”_

Link brought the sword down, and the prayer was cut off.

##########

**Translations:**

**All of the following is Sheikan.**

_“Sheikan, ic sayti.”:_ “I speak Sheikan.”

_“Oh, eow don?”:_ “Oh, do you?”

_“Pietae.”:_ “Pity.”

_“Ic nosere!...Den eow turbla haben leorina?”:_ “I know!...Did you have trouble learning?”

_“Juvenish, ic fui. Theat helfan.”:_ “I was young. That helped.”

_“Ic seura. Hwa eald eow den?”:_ “I’m sure. How young?”

_“Octo.”:_ “Eight.”

_“Ah, theat juvenish?”:_ “Ah, that young?”

_“Ic den…Sye fui lenareles.”:_ “I did…She taught me well.”

_“Eow dedent vanta dese.”:_ “You don’t want to do this.”

_"Min Gotess, ic belifan eow min liban en eower hant--”:_ “My Goddesses, I pray you hear my words--”

_“--thedoh ic precari--”:_ “--I pray you’ll help--”

_“--eowvel salva--”:_ “--will you save--”

_“--placare salva--”:_ “--please save--”

_“Placare…Placare_ Din, Nayru, Fa--”: “Please…Please Din, Nayru, Fa--”


	13. Imprint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link returns to Hyrule Castle for the first time in five years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 150 hits, thank you! Comments, questions, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcomed. I love hearing from my readers.
> 
> Sheikan is spoken in this chapter. As always, context exists within the text, and translations are provided at the end of the chapter. 
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Imprint

The bright summer moon was past its zenith when Impa awakened from her sleep. Every inch of her body became aware at the same moment with the same thought. _There was something wrong in the castle._ Something was disturbed, or different. In either case, it likely meant trouble. 

The Sheikah woman rolled out of her bed, removing a dagger from beneath her pillow as she did. Her feet dropped to the floor without a sound and, in equal silence, led her out into the hallway outside her room. She looked to the right, down the hall towards Zelda’s chambers. Her intuition told her the disturbance was coming from there. Impa’s heart barely had time to speed up with this insight before the princess’s scream cut the night.

Impa was down the hall in half a dozen strides; long before the guards at the opposite end of the hall had time to turn fully around. She shouldered the door open and rushed into the princess’s chambers. Her dagger was up and ready. She scanned the first room, found it empty, and continued on into the bedroom. When she saw what was there, she spun on her heels and rushed to meet the two guards coming into the first room.

“It’s all right,” Impa told the guards, stopping them in their tracks. She was already composed once more. “The princess merely had a nightmare. Please, return to your posts.”

“As you say, Lady Impa,” one of the guards said. His fellow nodded, and together they turned around and left the room, closing the door with a gentle tug behind them.

Impa barricaded the door with a chair beneath the knob for good measure and returned to Zelda’s bedroom. The princess was calm now, but the same couldn’t be said for the young man with her. Link stood with his back against the wall and his hands covering his face. Soft crying could be heard from behind his fingers, and his shoulders twitched with it. 

Zelda had not yet approached him, but when Impa returned to the room, the princess stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on one of Link’s elbows. “Link? Hey, what’s wrong? Come on, talk to me, okay?”

“When did he get here?” Impa asked in a whisper.

“Just a few minutes before you came in,” Zelda replied, also whispering. “He didn’t know where he was right away. His eyes were blank. He came around, though, and started to cry.” 

“Why did you scream?” Impa asked next. She eyed Link, but he was unarmed.

“It’s fine,” Zelda rushed out. “He was confused. I thought he would…” She shook her head and switched her focus to Link. “Link? Will you tell me what’s wrong? Come sit with me, and we’ll talk. Please?” Zelda’s hand shifted up from Link’s elbow to entwine with his fingers. He squeezed back and lowered his hands from his splotchy face. His red-rimmed eyes stayed fixed on Zelda as she led him to her bed. 

Impa joined them, sinking onto the bed’s edge while Zelda took a seat in the middle, and Link beside her. Yet as soon as he was seated, Link’s face clenched in an expression of fresh grief, and he lowered his head to Zelda’s folded lap. His cries sharpened into sobs, and Zelda stroked his neck in hope to channel calm. 

Impa leaned over and ran her hand along Link’s hitching back. His grief pricked at her heart. “Link?” Impa whispered. “Link, what’s wrong?” It had to be something terrible. What other reason would send him to the castle, and in such a state?

Zelda’s hand next stroked Link’s hair away from his cheek. It was damp with tears. He hid his face in the crook of an arm and refused to look at either her or Impa. “I… I…” Hiccups broke apart each attempt at a full sentence. His sobs resumed. 

Impa straightened up. “How did he get past the guards in this condition?” she muttered, more to herself. “Still, he came here,” she added with a nod to herself. “That’s a significant improvement.” 

Zelda met Impa’s eyes and smiled. “Because he came to us, right?” Impa nodded again, and Zelda dropped her eyes to her friend. “Link? Link, won’t you tell us what’s wrong?”

Impa stood up from the bed and vanished into Zelda’s washroom. She took her time, and in the while Zelda whispered reassurances to Link, and stroked his hair. She wished she could reach the lamp by her bedside, but she didn’t want to move with Link’s head in her lap. 

Impa brightened the lamp once she returned from the washroom. Warm firelight drove back some of the shadows in the bedroom, and the Sheikah woman dropped onto the bed once more. She had a damp cloth in her hands that she laid across the back of Link’s neck. A dryer cloth was used to wipe away his tears and sweaty hairline. Zelda undid the clasps of Link’s belts and pouches, and tugged them off. He still had a shake in his body, but after a few minutes the cloth helped to quiet the sobs and ease away the hiccups.

“All right now…” Impa took the cloth off and reached out to fully pull Link’s arm away from his face. Her hand on his cheek coaxed his eyes open. “Are you hurt?” Link answered with a small shake of his head. “Good. Start from the beginning.”

Link clenched his eyes shut in a grimace. “I… I killed…”

Impa’s heart stilled. “Link!” she urged when the Regn Hylian deteriorated into sobs again. Zelda had a hand over her mouth. The other was clenched in Link’s tunic. Impa saw dirt had stained the back of it. “Link!” she pressed again. _“Taluto min, Bleufarwe!”_

Link’s fingers buried themselves into Zelda’s sheets for a few seconds. Both Impa and Zelda listened in silence as, around hard sobs, Link told them of the ruins he had found, and the object within. He relayed his hopes in having his tribe returned to him, only to have that hope dashed when he realized the timeshift orb turned time back too far, and to the very day of the Dark Wolfos’s sealing, no less. 

“I-I d-didn’t know what I was d-doing,” Link stammered into Zelda’s lap. Her nightdress was soaked with tears beneath his right cheek. “I-I didn’t know. I just had my b-bow and I aimed it and… and I hurt them…”

Impa took hold of Link’s head between her hands and forced him to look up. “Did you kill that Sheikah?” she pressed. Link stared back at her. “Link, answer me!”

Link shook his head. “I couldn’t.” His head dropped out of Impa’s hands and returned to Zelda’s lap. “I c-couldn’t,” he sobbed again. “I hit the orb and everything w-went away. I could have st-stopped everything from ha-happening, but I didn’t. I was too much of a c-coward!”

“No, no, _Bleufarwe,”_ Impa disagreed. Zelda, too, shook her head. “You’re not a coward, Link. Not at all. You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

“H-How can you say that?” Link asked. “I ki… I killed my tribe a-all over again.”

“No, Link,” Zelda whispered. “Don’t you see? If you had given in to that terrible desire, you would be no better than the monster that killed your tribe.”

“She’s right, Link,” Impa picked up. “And for all we know, such an action would have changed nothing. The Dark Wolfos would have remained unsealed, and it would have likely killed the tribe anyway, centuries before you could be born. You did the right thing.” Her fingers wiped away Link’s latest tear. “I’m so proud of you.”

Link said nothing more, and his sobs abated back to soft sniffles. Zelda was able to move out from beneath him to coax his head up to her pillows. The Regn Hylian fell against them and closed his eyes. He moved little after that. When Impa checked on him a short while later, she found him breathing slow in sleep. With Zelda’s help his boots were removed, and his legs were straightened out. 

“Where will you sleep tonight?” Impa asked Zelda.

“Right here,” Zelda replied, smiling. “Just like when we were kids. And don’t try to tell me it’s _improper for a princess,_ or any of that foolishness.”

Impa laughed softly. “I won’t. In fact, I’ll sleep better knowing you’ll be at his side all night.” She glanced over Link once more, and her eyes fixed on his back. 

“What’s wrong?” Zelda asked. Impa’s face had hardened with a frown.

Impa placed a hand against the back of Link’s tunic. “I thought this was dirt at first, but…” She fell to working the tunic and undershirt off of Link. The Regn Hylian barely stirred as his arms were pushed out of the sleeves. With the clothes free, Impa was able to lay them out in the brighter lamplight. 

Zelda studied the identical blackish stains on the back of the tunic and undershirt. “It looks a little like a cross,” she remarked.

Impa lifted the tunic to her nose and sniffed. “Blood,” she murmured. “And something else.” She moved back to Link’s other side, looked at his back, and drew in a sharp breath.

“What is it?” Zelda asked in a high voice. She went to Impa’s side and looked at Link’s back, expecting to see a terrible wound. Instead, she saw a bird inked onto his skin. The bird’s wings swept out, halfway down his upper arms, while its forked tail disappeared below his beltline. The beak was lost in Link’s hairline.

“Princess Zelda,” Impa began, and Zelda focused on her; the Sheikah woman was rarely so formal when they were alone. “I must leave at first light to journey and speak with someone. Can I trust you to take care of Link until I return? I should be back by the afternoon. Don’t allow him to leave the castle before then.”

“Of course,” Zelda replied. “What’s this about, Impa?” she asked, having noticed the way Impa’s fingers were clenched around Link’s tunic.

“I don’t know yet,” was Impa’s answer, which put Zelda on edge. “Hopefully it’s nothing. I’ll know come tomorrow.” The Sheikah woman bowed to the princess. “Have a good night’s sleep.”

“You too,” Zelda returned. She dropped down onto her bed, and Impa left the room, closing the bedroom door behind her. Zelda turned down the lamp and fell into bed opposite Link. Her eyes marked the faint frown in his brow, and his curled fingers. She could smell Hyrule Field on him, and horse, as well as dried sweat and tears. His breaths were edged with the slightly wet sound of air passing through stuffed-up sinuses. Zelda pushed Link’s right sidelock away from his twitching nose, cupped his cheek for a moment to confirm he really, truly, was beside her, and closed her eyes to return to sleep.

#

The morning brought an empty space in the bed beside Zelda.

The princess sat up, gasping, and rolled out of bed. Her feet tangled in the bed sheet, and she fell hard to the floor. She regained her footing with a curse, threw on her dressing gown, and combed her fingers through the tangles in her hair before she ran out into the hall. Guards and castle help greeted Zelda as she hurried by them; she returned only the briefest of hellos. 

Outside. That’s where Link would have gone. But had he already left? Impa had trusted Zelda to keep him within the castle…

Zelda rushed out a side door usually reserved for the kitchen staff. She nearly knocked a basket of lettuce out of a woman’s hands. Zelda apologized and hurried off, but in reality she had no idea where to start her search. 

A clue came in the form of a whinny that drew Zelda’s eyes to a familiar mare. Three soldiers had Epona cornered in one of the castle gardens. They couldn’t get near enough to snag her reins, for Epona kicked or bit at any man who drew near. Zelda called out orders to stand down as she ran towards the soldiers. They pulled back and greeted their princess with respect, and Epona calmed some. Zelda was able to close in on the mare and soothe her. 

“Princess Zelda,” spoke up one of the soldiers. Zelda turned away from patting Epona’s nose to give him her attention. “This horse, it belongs to the Mon--”

“We have a guest in the castle,” Zelda cut in, and the soldier fell silent. “This horse belongs to him. I trust you to make no more attempts to restrain her?”

“Yes, my lady, however--”

“She’ll be fine here in the gardens,” Zelda continued. “See that she’s not disturbed.”

“Yes, my lady,” the soldier said again, sounding defeated. He gestured to his men to draw away from Epona. They did so after giving the princess respectful bows. 

Zelda turned back to Epona. “Good girl, Epona, keeping them on their toes,” she praised. “At least now I know Link is here. He wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind. I suppose you wouldn’t know where he is, hmmm?” Epona snorted some pollen from her nose, and Zelda laughed. She patted the mare’s nose once more and continued her search.

A guard patrolling amongst the rosebushes pointed Zelda down a stone alley when she asked about Link. Zelda thanked him and walked in the indicated direction. She sighed to herself as she passed into the shadow of the alley. After last night, she should have checked here first.

The alley led to a grassy courtyard. Flowers were rampant in the areas not dedicated to the stone pathway or the water edging the space. Link lay amongst them, dressed in new clothes he had retrieved from Epona’s saddlebags. His eyes shifted from the clouds to Zelda’s face when she walked up to him. His gaze was bloodshot and haunted, but he smiled a little in the princess’s shadow. 

“Are you all right?” Zelda asked him. She lowered herself to the ground and stretched out beside him, placing her head against his elbow.

“I’m better,” Link replied in a quiet voice. “I’m sorry if I scared you last night.”

“I’ve woken up to worse,” Zelda assured him. “One time we had a skullwalltula infestation and, well… There’s nothing that gives you nightmares like those things scritch-scratching on your wall in the middle of the night.”

“Try sleeping in Hyrule Field sometime,” Link countered.

Zelda turned her head towards him. “You don’t have to,” she nearly whispered. “Sleep in the field, I mean. You know you always have a place here.”

Link pulled his arm out from beneath Zelda’s head and sat up. He plucked a few flowers and began to weave them together in a chain. “I don’t remember getting here,” he said, unprompted.

“You mean last night?” Zelda asked. Link frowned and nodded. “I could tell,” she continued, and Link looked at her in surprise. “I remember Master Rusl called them your empty states. You would seem normal, but…” She reached up to brush Link’s bangs away from his eyes. “there was never anyone home behind those pretty blues. And you never remembered what happened, did you?”

Link shook his head and fingered a flower’s stem. “Thank you for being there for me,” he murmured.

“Of course.” Zelda leaned in against Link and watched his fingers work. She noted the bracelet on his wrist and recognized Gerudian craftsmanship. “It’s lovely,” she remarked. She pointed at the bracelet when Link looked to her in question. “You don’t strike me as one to wear the Triforce, though. My understanding is you prefer to pretend the Goddesses don’t exist.”

The flower chain gained another few inches. Link plucked a new flower to continue it. “This is where we first met,” he said. “Do you remember?” He looked to Zelda, who nodded. “It was the morning after the night that Impa found me in the gardens. She brought me here to meet you. You were picking mushrooms, I think.”

Zelda nodded again. “It had rained the night before. You almost couldn’t take a step in here without crushing one.”

“I thought it was gross,” Link remarked, drawing a face. “Mushrooms creep me out.”

“I’ll remember that,” Zelda said in a mischievous voice.

Link smiled at his lap. “I was still in a bit of a shock. I think that’s why Impa brought me to meet you so soon after my arrival. Maybe she thought someone around my age would help. And you did. I just want you to know that. You helped then, and you’ve always helped me since. Even when I’m at my angriest with you, thinking on your face or voice reminds me not to stay angry forever.”

“Five years felt like forever to me,” Zelda told him in a quiet voice. 

“I know.” Link swallowed around his tight throat. “I know. I guess… I kept thinking that if I met with you from time to time and smiled for you, you wouldn’t mind that I was too angry to speak with you. But I was wrong. I was so stupid, and I’m sorry. I’ll probably never say that enough. I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm…” Zelda picked up the other end of Link’s flower chain and began to add on to it. “I’m sorry too,” she said as she worked. “I drove you out rather than try to understand what you were going through. It wasn’t right of me, and we wouldn’t be in this situation if I was just a little more considerate at the time. I can never say sorry enough for that, so how about this: We agree to not worry about apologies anymore, and work on rebuilding things between us. How does that sound?”

“It’s more than I deserve,” Link said. “I agree to it, though.”

Zelda smiled. “Good.” Her eyes lingered on Link, and she took in a few subtle, physical changes while thinking on what she had heard of him lately from Impa. “What did you do in The Fortress?” Link raised his eyebrows at the question, and Zelda elaborated, “I mean… You’re changed a little. You smile more, and you laugh. You’re actually, you know, _cheerful.”_

Link’s cheeks flushed pink. “It was an interesting place,” he answered. Zelda had a feeling he was putting things lightly. “A lot of activity--well, in the middle of the week, mostly, when the traders stopped in the city. There were times when I heard a half-dozen different languages at once bouncing back and forth across the street. And the traders brought entertainers with them--dancers, musicians, artists, that kind of stuff. I saw something new every week. When I wasn’t stalking the streets, I was learning new things with Ganondorf or the other Gerudo. I even picked up some Gerudian.”

Zelda cradled her chin in a hand. “Oh? What kind of words did you learn?”

“Um…” Link’s mind blanked at the question, and all he could recall was one word. _“Pratyte._ That means ‘pretty’. Nabooru was always saying that about Epona.”

“I bet you used it a lot too, huh?” Zelda teased. She prodded Link’s ribs with a gentle finger. “Surrounded by a whole tribe of women and all.”

“The Gerudo had other people to occupy them,” Link told her with a slight frown. 

Zelda sighed. It was always hard to get a rise out of Link. “What about Lord Ganondorf?” she asked next. Link gave her a puzzled look. “I see him sometimes in the castle to meet with my parents, but I’ve never really interacted with him. He’s a little… intimidating.”

“He can be,” Link agreed. “He’s also confident, strong, and very charismatic.”

“Sounds like you admire him,” Zelda remarked.

Link shrugged a shoulder. “I wish I had his traits, honestly. He comes across as someone who knows where he is in the world. But I think he has his troubles too. He never talked about it, but I think he’s struggling with something. I saw it in his eyes a lot.” He left out his idea that he was the cause of Ganondorf’s problems.

“So he’s just like you in that regard?” Zelda asked. 

Link scuffed at the ground with a boot heel. “I guess.”

“More like _yes,”_ Zelda corrected. Link sighed and said nothing more. “Hey, did you know this is the longest conversation we’ve had in years? How does it feel?”

Link shrugged again. “All right.”

Zelda couldn’t help but laugh. When she gained her feet, Link looked up and asked, “Where are you going?”

“I’m looking for something,” Zelda replied, and she walked off to the stream that marked the borders of the courtyard. 

Link continued his flower chain while watching Zelda out of the corner of his eye. She was bowed at the waist as she walked along the stream, studying it. She knew he was watching her, for without looking to him, she raised a hand and beckoned him to her. Link slung the flower chain over his neck, gained his feet, and joined the princess at the stream. She pointed into the water, and Link’s eyes brightened at the sight of a white carp. “Franklin! Hey, buddy! Wow, he’s still around?”

Link and Zelda took seats at the stream’s edge, and Link dropped his fingertips into the water to trail them down the carp’s milky back. The fish swam back and forth against the fingers, and Link chuckled. “He’s gotten big.” Franklin was longer than Link’s forearm.

“The king of the carp,” Zelda added, chuckling as well. “Looks like he missed you too. Do you remember when you came home with him wiggling in your hands?”

Link smirked. “Impa had a fit,” he said. “I don’t know if she was more mad at me, or more panicked about Franklin in my hands. But he lived long enough for us to get him back into water.”

“Yep, he’s a survivor,” Zelda remarked. Her fingers joined in Franklin’s gentle massage. “You were always good with animals,” she added.

Link’s fingers stilled. “And monsters too, right?” he said in a quiet voice. Zelda cast him a questioning look. “I wonder if it’s because I’m a monster, too.”

Zelda’s face twisted into confusion and concern. “Why do you say that, Link?” But Link shook his head and refused to answer, leaving Zelda to frown. After another minute, she suggested, “Come on, let’s get some breakfast. The gardens will still be here when we’re done. You can have your pick. I bet you don’t get that a lot in Hyrule Field.”

“As long as it isn’t mushrooms,” Link replied. He stood up, leaving the flower chain on his neck behind, on the grass.

Zelda chuckled as she gained her feet. She picked up the flower chain and hung it over her shoulders as if it was a shawl. “You know, I always thought after that night--” She stopped herself, and a touch of red came to her cheeks. “Never mind. It’s dumb, and you won’t like it.”

Link released an exasperated sigh. “Zelda, you can’t say something like that and then not say it.”

Zelda pressed her lips together for a few seconds before she rushed out, “I’ve always thought the Goddesses had made it rain that night because they were crying for you. See? I told you it was dumb.”

“Yeah,” Link agreed in a distracted voice. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular. “But if they cared so much as to change the weather, they should have just stopped my dreams instead.”

“Maybe they couldn’t because a person’s dreams are their own,” Zelda suggested. 

Link scoffed and shook his head. “Obviously not, seeing how mine were corrupted by a Dark Wolfos for weeks.” He stopped and closed his eyes. His lips were pressed into a hard line. “I’m sorry,” he said after relaxing.

“It’s okay,” Zelda assured him. “You’re allowed to get mad. And if you go too far, I’ll just put you in your place again.” She flashed Link a winning smile.

“You’re going to make a formidable queen some day,” Link remarked. Zelda laughed at that, took hold of his hand, and led him out of the courtyard.

#

With a shudder and a deep groan of straining wood, the gate leading into The Fortress rose up. Noise spilled out beneath it, accompanying the Gerudo stallion that was stepping forward. Its rider, Ganondorf, cleared the last few inches of the slow gate with a duck of his head. When he straightened in his saddle, it was only to spur his horse forward to duck his head again, this time in respect for Impa.

“Will you ride with me?” Impa asked the Gerudo king. “Just for a while.”

“Anything you ask, Lady Impa,” Ganondorf replied. His stallion fell in alongside the Sheikah woman’s bay mare, and they began a walk along the Gerudo border.

“You can drop the formalities,” Impa said. “This meeting is unofficial--do you understand?”

“That much is clear, seeing how it’s usually King Daphnes meeting with me alone.” Ganondorf stretched his arms up for a brief moment. Impa heard his back pop. “Is it about Link?” Ganondorf asked after dropping his arms. 

Impa nodded and pulled Link’s tunic out of her saddlebag. She tossed it to Ganondorf. 

Ganondorf caught it and snapped it between his two hands, unfolding it. “What is this?” he asked while his eyes studied the cross-shaped stain.

Impa reminded herself to keep her anger under control. “You tell me,” she replied. “Link came to the castle last night in distress, and I found his clothes stained by this--this--”

_“Tatau,”_ Ganondorf supplied. He frowned. “But it was healed…”

“He got it in The Fortress, didn’t he?” Impa continued. 

“Yes,” Ganondorf confirmed, carefully. “I did it for him.”

_“You--?”_ Impa took a deep breath. “You did it to him?”

“Yes, but it was healed. There’s no reason for this.” Ganondorf felt along the stain. He sniffed it as well, much like Impa had done. “What is this?” Ganondorf repeated. His voice was deep and uneasy.

“Tell me what you did,” Impa demanded. 

Ganondorf folded the tunic and dropped it to his saddle. “Link wanted a _tatau,” he began._ “He wanted it as a sort of memorial for his sister. I agreed to do it for him.”

“There’s more to it than ink, isn’t there?” Impa pressed.

Ganondorf braced himself. This wasn’t going to go over well. “It was meant to help him,” he explained. “It’s blood magic--powerful sorcery. It was supposed to help him with his grief.”

Impa allowed some of her bottled anger to sharpen her words as she said, “You can’t expect sorcery to fix something like that! What in the Goddesses’ names were you thinking?”

“It wasn’t my intention to _fix_ anything,” Ganondorf countered, snappish. “I said _help._ Link’s not exactly open to suggestions, is he? This was the next best thing.” He looked down at the folded tunic. “But something corrupted my sorcery.”

The riders traveled another two dozen feet before Impa spoke up, her tone musing, “Could it be his Regn blood?” 

Ganondorf raised his eyebrows at her. “What makes you say that?”

“When Link was gone for so long, I went out in search of people who may have seen him. During my search, I came across an acquaintance of his--a rather enthusiastic young man named Shad. He talked for several minutes about Link, and he mentioned Link’s blood--how it’s the last of its kind and likely carries the legacy of the whole Regn Tribe. I asked him what he meant by that, and he told me how Link had triggered some sort of water dance that usually only worked with several of his tribe members.”

Ganondorf burst into laughter. “So that’s how he did it!” he said. Impa frowned at the lack of context, and her severity was enough to dampen Ganondorf’s mirth. He quieted and made a thoughtful sound in his throat. It was a minute or so before he spoke again. “It’s possible little fish’s blood is aiding in the corruption of my blood magic--”

“’Little fish’?” Impa cut in.

Ganondorf paused to smile a little at Impa. “A nickname is all, my lady.” He grew serious once more. “But Link’s blood wouldn’t be strong enough on its own. Not against my sorcery. I learned from the best two witches in--” He stalled, and a peculiar look came to his face. 

Impa straightened in her saddle. “What is it?”

Ganondorf shook himself out of his thoughts. He lifted the tunic and asked, “May I keep this?”

Impa shrugged. “Fine, but are you going to tell me what thought just came to your head?”

“Not a thought, just a theory,” Ganondorf corrected. He tucked the tunic out of sight. “A guess. I need to look into something. When I have a definite answer, I’ll get in touch with you again. In the meantime, we should both do our best to keep an eye on Link.”

“He isn’t fond of being watched,” Impa reminded the Gerudo king.

Ganondorf shook his head. “No, but you have that clever stone of yours, and I have my ways. I’m sure we can manage a fair job of it between the two of us. So…” Ganondorf turned his horse around, back towards the gate. “Until next time, Lady Impa. It’s been a pleasure.”

“Likewise,” Impa returned. Ganondorf smiled at her lack of sincerity and spurred his horse away.

#

Impa returned to the castle in the afternoon; she had ridden back at a slow pace, as it was better for thinking. After leaving her mare to the stable hands, she sought out Zelda and found the princess in the castle library. She was alone, which concerned Impa until she saw Zelda smile.

“You know how he is,” Zelda said when Impa asked why Link wasn’t with her. “He can’t stand being within walls for very long. I tried getting him to relax in here, but he kept getting up to pace. So I told him to go back outside. He knows you want to see him, so he hasn’t left yet.”

“He hasn’t minded disobeying me before,” Impa reminded her charge as she left the library. Still, she found Link quick enough in the gardens. He was in a largely enclosed area, staring up into the branches of a tree. 

“I’m missing an undershirt and tunic,” Link said to Impa when the Sheikah woman joined him under the tree. “The ones I was wearing last night.”

“They were ruined, so I threw them away.” Impa replied. “I’ll have new ones made to replace them.” Link didn’t ask how the clothes were ruined; a small relief for Impa. “You’re looking a little better today.” Link made a noncommittal sound in his throat. “What are you _loconin_ at?”

“A bird, I think.” Link narrowed his eyes. “It looks like it’s hurt or something. Hang on.” Link backed up a couple of steps, sprinted at the tree, and ran up its trunk. His hand caught one of the lowest branches, and he swung up onto it with the ease of a monkey.

_“Bleufarwe,_ what are you doing?” Impa asked, half-laughing. A few leaves were shaken loose, and they spiraled down to fall on Impa’s shoulders. Link was far up the tree already, half-hidden in shadow. Impa watched as he braced his feet in the crooks of two different branches and reached out towards a third. Link’s hand returned to his chest, gently cupped around something, and he made his slower climb back down the trunk. He dropped the last ten feet and landed in a crouch. He stayed low, and Impa bowed over to look at what he was carrying. 

“It’s a fledgling guay,” Link told her. The young bird’s orange-feathered head and purple-feathered body were unmistakable. It was holding one of its dark wings out at an odd angle.

Impa sighed. “You should get rid of it,” she said. “It’s a _monstrum,_ Link.”

“I know what it is,” Link said, somewhat testily, and his body tensed. The guay uttered its peculiar _ree-ree-ree_ chirp and fluttered its good wing. It was distressed by the change it could feel in the hand beneath it. Link soothed it with a gentle finger stroke down its spine. “At the coast, I swam with a school of gyorgs. I even touched some of them.”

Impa straightened up and put her hands on her hips. “Link, that was _stupere_ of you!”

“I’m still alive,” Link reminded her. “My point is they’re not all bad all the time. You say I should be seen taking monsters down, but that hasn’t worked out for me. So I’ve been thinking… Maybe instead I should try to understand them. Maybe that’s the key to getting rid of whatever attraction brings them to me.” His finger traced the guay’s spine again. “That’s what Gan suggested, anyway.”

“’Gan’?” Impa repeated, puzzled.

Link pressed his lips together for a moment. “Lord Ganondorf,” he clarified in a stiff voice.

Impa nodded once. “A nickname, I suppose?” she asked. She sighed next. “So what’s your _idein?_ You’re going to build a monster menagerie? I don’t think that will go over well with the populace.”

Link straightened up with the guay in his hand. “I’m just going to try and be a little more… considerate from now on,” he told the Sheikah woman. He lifted the guay to eye level and studied its plumage. “This one’s a girl. I’ll name her Kara.”

“You’re going to keep it?” Impa asked him. Link smiled. “Well, on your own _heda_ then.” Impa gestured towards the castle. “Come on. We keep a small store of fairy fountain water in the _castel._ It’s not enough for a serious injury, but your guay is pretty small. A few drops should heal it easy enough.”

As Impa promised, Kara’s wing was healed within a minute; Link felt the bone snap back together as he held the guay in his hands. He waited for the guay to fly away; if she did, he would have to recapture her and keep her wings clipped until she was trained. However, Kara merely sat in Link’s open palms and chirped. When she did take off, it was to flutter up to Link’s left shoulder to peck at his earring.

Impa laughed at the sight. “Guays are fond of shiny _ojaiets._ You’d best keep your rupees and valuables in your pockets.”

Link held out a hand and whistled. Kara flitted to the open palm. She did the same when Link raised his other hand and whistled again. “Looks like my monster attraction is good for something,” Link remarked. The way he spoke wasn’t light-hearted, and Impa raised an eyebrow at him. It was enough to loosen Link’s tongue around the topic he had almost broached to Zelda. “Am I a monster?” he asked in a whisper.

Impa frowned and folded her arms. “Why would you say such a thing?” she asked, nearly whispering herself.

Link cast his eyes to the door. It was closed, and no shadows darkened the bar of light beneath it. They were alone, and that was enough to loosen more words from him. “What other explanation is there?” he asked Impa. “Wherever I go, sooner or later monsters will show up. It happened in The Fortress. Leevers attacked people in the middle of the city where Gan and I were just a couple minutes before, and leevers never go into settlements. And when I clear out Dodongo Cavern for the Gorons, the baby dodongos rush me instead of running away like they would with anyone else.”

_“Bleufarwe,_ you can’t base such an outlandish assumption on a few examples,” Impa said with a shake of her head.

“There’s more,” Link continued. His tongue was dry, and he smacked his lips a few times. “I can see her every night in my nightmares.”

“Do you mean Zelda?” Impa asked.

Link shook his head. “No. The Dark Wolfos that killed my tribe.”

“It was a female?”

Link nodded and said in a cracking voice, “She spoke to me that time, after she killed everyone. And when my memories come to me in my nightmares, I can see her shadow over everything. When I’m angry, or if I’m in a fight with a monster, I can almost hear her… Or sense her watching me…” He looked as if he was about to be sick. His face had grown pale, and his shoulders trembled. Kara chirped once. “She studies me like I’m prey. Or a mate. Or a fellow monster…”

Impa shook her head, moved in front of Link, and clasped his face between her hands. The Hylian’s eyes were edged with growing tears. “Where is all of this coming from?” Impa asked, adding, “You’re scaring me, _Bleufarwe.”_ She dropped her hands and paused to think while Link sniffled and wiped away a tear. Something had just come to her, inspired by Link’s tormented words. “Link… You never told me why you were covered in monster blood the night I found you.”

Link’s eyes tightened, and he answered in an increasingly distressed voice, “She told me to do it. What if she contaminated me when I did?” He raised his free hand. Beneath the smear of tears was an old scar, stretched with time. It was fresh once, when Impa came across him in the castle gardens. “She made me into a monster. That’s why I attract them.”

“All right, that’s enough,” Impa snapped. She tugged Link into a hug, and his sniffles cut off into a surprised snort against her chest. Hugs were rare from the Sheikah woman. She was fonder of small kisses or gentle formalities. Kara fluttered up to Link’s shoulder and chirped into his ear while he stood within the warm embrace. 

“I don’t know what’s come over you,” Impa spoke above Link’s braced head. “Maybe this brush with your past stirred up bad memories. But I’ll tell you right now that you are not a monster.” She pushed him back so as to fix a stern but loving look onto his blotchy face. “You are a Regn Hylian, and an honorary Sheikah, and maybe even a bit of a Gerudo now. With all that, there’s no room for you to be a monster. Whatever attracts them to you is a puzzle that may never be solved. But it looks like you’re finally trying to get a hand on it.” She nodded to Kara. “And I’m proud of you for that. So no more feeling sorry for yourself, got it?”

Link nodded once. “Yeah, okay.” He sniffed and wiped at his nose. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Impa told him before raising a finger to his nose, “but you are staying at least one more night.”

“Am I?” Link replied, and the last of his sadness ebbed away in the wake of a half laugh.

“You are,” Impa insisted in a stern voice that Link knew not to argue against. “I want to get a few proper meals into you, and you could use an actual bath instead of a dip in the river. You smell like a baked-over wet _docga.”_

A furious blush came to Link’s cheeks. “I-I do not!”

“You don’t smell it,” Impa continued, her voice sly, “because you’re so used to it, your nose has grown immune. I suppose Zelda didn’t say anything because she wants to be _nescien,_ but when have you ever known me to mince my words?”

Link’s blush deepened, and he dropped his eyes. He said something through tight lips. When Impa asked him to speak up, he repeated in a whisper, “What room should I stay in?”

A satisfied smile came to Impa’s lips. “That’s better.” She told him of a room close to Zelda’s chambers, usually reserved for visiting royalty. “You’re royal enough,” Impa said as she ruffled Link’s hair and pushed him into the hall. “Go take a bath, then meet me in the _jardins.”_

“We were just there,” Link reminded her.

“Yes, but your _consideration_ interrupted us. I want to show you something. Be quick, _Bleufarwe!”_ Her tone was enough to send Link rushing down the hall. Kara rode along, perched snug on his shoulder.

While Link bathed, Impa took the time to seek out the soldiers who were on guard the previous night--particularly the ones stationed at the end of the hall outside Zelda’s chambers. She learned that the men had never left their posts, and so she went outside to study the wall beneath Zelda’s window. She found muddy footprints at its base. The rough, protruding stones and deep cracks in the mortar would have provided hand and foot holds for a desperate climber. 

That left the soldiers in the gardens. Impa found them in the barracks and gave them an earful in front of their fellows. The deep red of their flushed faces told her she had done her job well enough. Impa returned to the gardens where she found Link idling near the vegetable patches. He followed her when she beckoned him. Kara kept pace, fluttering from bush to tree to fence.

Impa led the way to the west side of the gardens, close by the shorter, inner curtain wall which enclosed Hyrule Castle’s grounds. She stopped at a lonely corner, slung an arm over Link’s shoulders, and drew him close to her side. “Remember this place?” Link shook his head. “This is where I found you.”

Link struggled to recall the exact details. He could remember Impa looking down at him in the rain; that image was always clear. The next clear memory was waking up the next morning and finding a friendly woman from the castle staff offering him a warm breakfast. 

“You had come through the drain,” Impa explained. She nodded at a square hole carved into the curtain wall, flush against the ground. It looked impossibly small to Link; but then, he was no longer eight years old. “You were lucky. Another ten minutes’ rainfall would have flooded it. You were drenched in monster blood. It turned the bathwater black, and I had to drain and refill it to get you properly clean.”

“I don’t really remember a lot about all that,” Link admitted. He tried once more to think back further than the image of Impa’s downturned face. He met darkness, anger, and fear between his last memory of Silbarine and his first memory of the Sheikah woman. 

When Link tried thinking forward again, he was a little more successful. With Impa’s mention of a bath came the feeling of a warm, fluffy towel swathed around him, and soft words murmured in mixed languages. A gentle pair of hands wrapped cooling medicine and bandages around his cut palm. Next, a lush nightshirt was placed over him. A few weeks later, the similarly high quality clothes granted to Link by the castle were replaced at his request with the Regn tunics that had survived the Dark Wolfos’s attack on Silbarine. He and Impa had come across them at a black market stall in Castle Town. The Regn Hylian’s frantic screams had turned heads, and Impa’s imposing nature had secured a quick turnover of the tunics. 

Impa dragged Link out of his memories when she continued, “What I ask you to keep in mind isn’t the memories, exactly. I want you to remember how far you’ve come. Through fear, and anger, and sadness, you’re still here. You’ve grown and learned, and I’m proud of you for that. You should be proud of yourself as well--especially after yesterday. You made several smart choices even in the midst of overpowering grief, Link. That proves how far you’ve come.”

Link looked away from the corner, saying nothing. He watched Kara peck at some grass seed not far from his feet.

Impa sighed. “Keep it in mind,” she repeated. 

Link realized she was waiting for some sort of acknowledgement. “I’ll try,” he replied.

Impa’s arm dropped from Link’s shoulders. “Soon, I’m going to stop accepting that answer,” she warned him. Link again said nothing, and Impa left him to contemplate by the corner. 

##########

**Translations:**

**All of the following are in Sheikan.**

_“Taluto min…!”:_ “Talk to me…!”

_loconin:_ looking

_monstrum:_ monster

_stupere:_ stupid

_idein:_ idea

_heda:_ head 

_castel:_ castle

_ojaiets:_ literally “objects”, but more commonly translates to Hylian as “things”

_docga:_ dog

_nescien:_ nice

_jardins:_ gardens


	14. Caper and Counterbalance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a brief stay in Hyrule Castle, Link returns to his nomadic life in Hyrule Field where Ganondorf meets up with him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you a bunch for your continued support. I hope you're enjoying the story.
> 
> One word each of Sheikan and Gerudian is spoken in this chapter. As always, translations are at the bottom, although are not really necessary.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Caper and Counterbalance

_The sun was high and hot. Noon. That was wrong. It was different from the boy’s last recollection; a recollection cut short by a toothy smile and a heavy paw. He picked up his speed and hurried along the lakeshore, sparing no attention for its usual beauty. His eyes were fixed on the blur of buildings far ahead. Even at this distance it was easy to see something was wrong. There was no movement, and no midday sounds of activity came across the water._

_The smell hit the boy’s nose before anything else. It was the smell of fish lying out in the sun for too long. The pungent odor of spoilage made him gag. He was forced to stop and take several deep breaths with his head turned into fresher air. Turning back towards Silbarine, he recognized something else in the smell; something worse than spoiled fish._

_Each lap of the lake water refreshed the red stain on the shore in front of Silbarine. The boy put a hand over his mouth when he saw something like fish entrails, only larger, floating in the water. There was so much more than red water and gore, however. Too much more. He fell against a half-ruined house and heaved the contents of his stomach. Tears mixed with the last of the spittle from his mouth. He wiped it all away and pelted through Silbarine towards his home, calling for his sister. He kept his eyes ahead, not down. The wet ground squelched beneath his feet. Something tripped him up every few steps, and once his foot sank down into unpleasant, soggy warmth. He yanked his foot free and resumed calling_ \--screaming-- _his sister’s name._

_He reached his home and rounded it to the front. A foot cut off inches above the ankle lay in the shadow of the doorway. It was all the boy saw, and all he needed to see. He recognized the shape of it, even soaked in blood as it was._

_Someone took hold of the world and tilted it beneath the boy’s feet. He found himself lying on his side against the ground. His eyes peered over lakes and rivers of blood that cut through the low mountains of the time-worn dirt. In his stillness, he was one more corpse. Awareness flickered back into his distant eyes when he saw a large form pass between two houses._

_The Dark Wolfos was stopped and standing at the lakeshore by the time the boy reached it. The red water splashed over its front paws, and diluted the blood dripping down from its fur. Its muzzle was grey with age, but the rest of its coat was vibrant in deep black color. It insulted the quiet of Silbarine when its hairs flashed in the sun with each shift of the wind. Fishing spears broke up the silky expanse; their shafts twitched with every rough breath the monster took in._

_“A few years short of a thousand,” the Dark Wolfos said when the boy came within its sight. “That is how long I was trapped in that cave. Before then, I had lived for only a year under the service of a man who wanted to rule this land. I imagine he failed, as this world is still as beautiful as it was then.” The monster lifted its nose into the breeze. “He promised me I would be freed of my prison, but he failed to mention that would happen long after I stopped caring to live.”_

_“Why?” the boy asked. The tears renewed in his eyes, and he screamed,_ “Why did you kill all of them?” __

_“I was owed a feast, and revenge,” the Dark Wolfos replied. “I have taken both, and now I owe you the revenge. Isn’t it funny how that works? In seeking my vengeance, I inspired the same in another.” The monster laughed; its heavy muzzle split wide with the act. The boy hated the sound of it, and he felt grim pleasure when it was cut off by a hoarse, bloody cough. “Link, you had best act fast before the Goddesses take your chance for revenge away.”_

_There were more fishing spears lying close by on the shore, scattered amongst broken boats. The boy took up one in shaking hands, but it was too awkward for him to handle. He snapped the shaft off against a boat and carried the spear point back to the Dark Wolfos. The monster had lain down on its stomach along the tide line. It was massive up close; its spine was several feet above the boy’s head. The stench of carnage coming off of it was heavy, as was the body heat._

_“The heart,” the Dark Wolfos said when the boy reached it. “The spears always missed it, then and now. If your people were hunters instead of fishers, I would have had a quicker death, and they would still be alive.”_

_The remark stung the boy, and hardened his face. The spear point was as good as a dagger in his hands. He found there was a bright, angry desire to bring it down on the Dark Wolfos when before there was only fear and grief. Now, the emotions swarmed together as a dark cloud that covered his mind. He reached out and placed a hand against the Dark Wolfos’s side. The pelt was as silky as it looked. He moved his hand along it until he came across the powerful beats of a heart throbbing beneath the monster’s skin. His other hand raised the spear point._

_“I am sorry, Link,” the Dark Wolfos murmured when the boy prepared to strike. “This was the fate my nature commanded. That it intertwined with yours was happenstance.”_

_The boy blinked tears away. “Why did you go along with it then?” he asked. He wanted to shout the question, but it came out as a whisper._

_The Dark Wolfos laughed again; the heartbeats sped up a little. “Because it’s easier to believe the Goddesses have a plan than it is to rebel against them when you consider they may not care for you. I pity you, however. Even if you want to, you’ll find it hard to buck your fate. It’s bound by your very blood.”_

_“What?” The boy turned away from the mesmerizing rise and fall of the monster’s side._

_The Dark Wolfos snapped its teeth in impatience. “Do it, boy! I am weary of life. Give me my leave to voice my grievances to the Goddesses directly. Or are you as soft and incapable as the rest of your tribe?”_

_The insult was the drive the boy needed. A renewed flash of anger brought the spear point down. It pierced the Dark Wolfos’s side and carved a path to the thrumming heart. The monster’s one and only yelp was lost in the boy’s screams as he drove the spear point down again and again, using both hands. Black blood gushed out to splash against him. His hair darkened, and his clothes grew heavy with the weight of it. When the blood had slicked his grip enough, the spear point slipped and cut into a palm._

_The boy jerked his hands away, leaving the spear point impaled in the Dark Wolfos’s side. He stood some feet away and regained his breath with several deep gulps of the spoiled air. His hand throbbed much like the Dark Wolfos’s heart had. He raised it and watched as the monster’s black blood spilled into his wound, mixing with his own brighter red and creating swirls of color. The dark blood burned the cut, but the pain was nothing compared to the wound deeper inside the boy. It was a self-inflicted wound, he knew. If he had ignored his dreams. If he had never spoken the word. If he had kept his mouth shut. If, if, if…_

“Wake _up!”_

Wet cold splashed over Link, cutting his screams short. He jerked and flailed with a strangled cry. Off-balance, he toppled over the edge of the bed and fell hard to the floor in a cocoon of blankets. His mind registered the plush linen of a castle bed. It was almost as wet as him. Link extracted himself from the blankets and peered over the edge of the bed. On the other side of it, Zelda stood with an empty bucket braced against her hip. She looked fearsome, even with her hair a mess and with little more than a dressing gown on. 

Behind Zelda stood her nurse, Impa, also in nightclothes. Three guards were pressed close behind her. Impa had to tell one of them to ignore the guay flying around the room. The soldier watched it instead, shrinking away when the guay buzzed over him with its _ree-ree-ree_ cry.

Link pushed aside his soaked bangs and took a seat on the edge of the bed. His whistle brought Kara to him; she perched on his shin and pecked at the buttons of his damp nightshirt. “What was that for?” Link asked Zelda in a hoarse voice. His throat hurt with each word, and he frowned.

“You wouldn’t wake up,” Zelda explained. Her voice softened just enough to take the edge out of the anger on her face. “Impa and I were shaking you and calling your name, but you wouldn’t stop screaming. I thought I would try something else.”

Link put his back to the accusation in the soldiers’ faces, and the concern in Impa’s and Zelda’s eyes. “I’m sorry for waking you,” he said to his lap. “It was just a nightmare.” Behind him, he heard Impa coax the soldiers out of the room. 

Zelda took a seat beside Link, not seeming to mind the damp mattress. Link watched her as she scratched at Kara’s ruff with a gentle finger. The guay leaned into the touch and closed her eyes. “A bad one, huh?” Zelda asked in a whisper.

“One of the worst,” Link confirmed, also whispering. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for something like that,” Zelda assured him. “It frightened me, though. Not the screaming, but the fact that you wouldn’t wake up. I felt helpless, and I hate feeling that way.”

“Same here,” Link said. “Thanks for throwing water on me.”

Zelda laughed a little. “I remembered how you had calmed down in Ordon once I pushed you into the stream, so I thought I would try something similar. It’s a good thing we live in a castle--we have plenty of dry beds.”

Link helped Impa collect the damp blankets together while Zelda gathered Link’s belongings and took them to his new room. It felt strange to the Regn Hylian to have other people doting on him in such a manner. Still, he knew when to keep his mouth shut in favor of a smile and a nod. After changing his nightclothes, he allowed Impa to cover him with his new blankets; and he accepted Zelda’s kiss to his cheek with only minimal complaint because he knew she wanted that. 

When the bedroom door closed, Link opened the eyes he had shut in a mockery of obedient sleep. He pulled his right hand out from beneath his head and held it up into the dim moonlight that cut through the window. The scar on the palm flashed in the pale glow much like the Dark Wolfos’s sleek fur had flashed in the sunlight. Link turned his hand from side to side a few times before lowering it. He fell to counting the strands of the bed’s red canopy, imagining that each one was the blood-soaked thread of fate of a fallen Regn Hylian. He put a face to each thread and made up life stories for them, taking inspiration from the people he could remember from both his tribe and the towns he had visited since then. The macabre practice kept his brain too busy to consider more nightmare-heavy sleep.

#

At breakfast the next morning, Link could tell that Impa had something to say about the bags under his eyes. He saw the concern and disappointment in her gaze, and looked away from it. His fork pushed around scraps of bacon. He hadn’t taken a bite of food yet. No doubt that was adding more fuel to the fire in the Sheikah woman’s eyes.

Zelda was chatting away with her parents. Their ease together made Link somewhat jealous. He had never had a true connection to the king and queen of Hyrule. During his years in the castle, he had registered little in their minds, busy as they were with ruling the kingdom. Even now, positioned only a few seats away, they looked at him little, and always with a distracted look; as if they couldn’t remember who he was. Yet surely they knew of the Monster Bringer? The Dark Harbinger? Or perhaps Blue Arrow, the newest of the string of names? 

Link frowned at the fork he was pushing around across his plate. They either didn’t care, or the gripes of the civilians didn’t reach so far when it came to him. He wondered--purely for fun--how much of an impact he would have to make in order to catch the Royal Family’s ears. It would need to be something significant. They had hardly batted their eyelashes whenever he drew monsters to the castle years ago.

“What are you thinking about, _Bleufarwe?”_ Impa asked from across the table. Link raised his eyes to her and shrugged. “You should _ezzan.”_

“I’m not hungry,” Link countered. He didn’t appreciate Impa trying to force casualness at the breakfast table. It felt strange given that she had seen him at his worst the past two nights. He wasn’t in the mood, either. He was tired, and after more than a day in the castle, its enclosed rooms and halls were getting to him. This wasn’t like the anonymous passages of the stronghold in The Fortress. These walls carried memories of him, and called to similar memories within him.

“I want you to eat,” Impa pressed, speaking below the Royal Family’s enthusiastic conversation. 

“I’m still full from dinner last night,” Link explained. A weak excuse, he knew.

As Link expected, Impa saw straight through it. “Don’t give me that, you barely ate then. Link!” Impa glared at the Regn Hylian when he stood up from the table. He ignored her, pocketed two hardboiled eggs, and left the dining hall in silence. 

In his room, Link peeled one of the eggs and broke it up for Kara. He watched her eat it while he rolled the second egg against his nightstand. It crackled beneath his palm, and the edges bit into the scar there. His door opened just as he took his first bite of the shelled egg.

“You’re staying here,” Impa announced.

Link was expecting a lecture, so the blunt pronouncement took him by surprise. He coughed down his mouthful of egg, and turned in his seat on the bed to face Impa. “What did you say?” He would have laughed if not for the look of anger on her face.

Impa walked further into the room and closed the door behind her. The hairs on the back of Link’s neck rose, and he tensed in his seat. He mentally mapped out the time it would take to reach the window, open it, and climb down the exterior wall. Not enough time; not with Impa’s reflexes and speed. He would have to hamper her approach somehow. Perhaps if he tossed the furniture in her way--

“You heard me,” Impa snapped, cutting into Link’s plotting. “You’re staying here until you can prove to me that you’re fit to go larking about in Hyrule Field alone.”

Link crumpled up the remainder of his hardboiled egg and added it to Kara’s nearly-depleted pile. He took his time with the act to keep the shake of anger out of his body. It also gave him an opportunity to flit through his repertoire of witty retorts. “I’m fine.”

Impa walked around the bed to stand in front of Link. He began to think of new ways to get around her. “That’s nonsense. These past few months have been your worst yet--worse than the time when you vanished into the Lost Woods, worse than the bullbo incident, worse than--”

_“Shut up!”_ Link shouted. He received a hard backhand for his lip. Kara fluttered away with a startled screech as Link shook the pain out of his head.

“You are not well,” Impa continued. “That is why you will stay here where I can keep an eye on you. I don’t know if it’s your grief working at you again, or the _ta--”_ She stopped herself just in time. Link didn’t notice; his head was down, and he was rubbing his red cheek. 

“You don’t talk to me anymore, _Bleufarwe,”_ Impa picked up in a softer voice. “I remember a time when you would always have something to tell me when I called on you. Now I get silence or attitude for the most part--unless you’re hurt, which is the worst of all. Do you know what that does to me?” 

Impa crouched down before Link’s hanging legs and looked up into his downturned face. He shifted his eyes away. “Whenever something happens to you, or I see sadness in your eyes, I think back on that day when I let you walk away from the castle. I remember it’s my fault whenever you’re hurt, because I allowed you to leave a secure home. I fear every day that I’ll hear news of your body turning up at the bottom of a gulch--whether by a monster’s hand or your own. I fear even more that someone will come across you hurt or dead, and not care enough to tell me. The grief and guilt eat away at me.”

Link broke into giddy laughter. It was so sudden and without cause that Impa could only stare at him. The laughter died off almost as soon as it had started. “You talk about grief and guilt as if you know something about it,” Link said as he wiped a tear from his eye. 

“You think you’re the only one in this world suffering from those things?” Impa asked, gently.

Link’s face darkened, as did his tone when he replied, “No, but I certainly suffer from them more than you.”

“Fair enough,” Impa said. As she feigned deference, she watched Link’s face closely. When she saw some of the anger leave him, she asked, _“Bleufarwe,_ why didn’t you tell me about your lovely _tatau?”_

Link’s eyes narrowed for the briefest moment before they softened. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled.

“It means something special to you, right?” Impa pressed. Link shrugged. “This is what I’m getting at, _Bleufarwe._ I want you to tell me things and talk to me. That’s why I want you to stay here for a while. Give me one straight week with a healthy appetite, sound sleep, and a willing tongue. Then I’ll let you go back to prowling Hyrule Field and hunting monsters. How does that sound? It’s not a bad deal, right?” She reached up and tugged on Link’s left sidelock. It was a playful sign of affection from his childhood. He hardly registered it. “I’m going to get you some food--just a light breakfast. You stay here, and when I get back we can talk some more, all right?” Link gave her a nod this time. Impa straightened up, touched his head for a moment with a Sheikan word of fondness, and left the room. 

Impa returned to an empty bed and an open window. Kara was also gone, as was the bag that Link had kept with him. The Sheikah woman dropped the breakfast tray she was carrying and bolted out of the room. It was pointless to give chase. Link had too much of a head start, Epona was quick, and the guards would be more than willing to see the Monster Bringer out through the gates. But there was one connection Impa could try. She ran to her study and picked up the gossip stone from her desk. 

“Link, Link, come back!” Impa called into the stone. “I was only concerned for you. Now get back here!” She knew it was foolish to expect he would listen.

“I’ll be in Hyrule Field if you need me,” came Link’s reply. “I’m sorry, Impa, but I can take care of myself. I’ll find some way to prove that to you.” The stone didn’t speak after that, and Impa tossed it down with a curse.

#

A lick of Din’s Fire came to life with a snapped finger, and Ganondorf cupped the palm of flames to the cigarette between his lips. Around him, the forest was for the most part quiet. The birds were uttering cautious songs, for they were wary of the group of bandits moving through the underbrush. A half dozen men and women were sneaking down the slope that led to the road cutting through the forest. A man atop a fine horse that was weighed down by bulging saddlebags was walking down the middle of the road. His clothes spoke of nobility and deep pockets.

One of the bandits crept by inches to Torrent’s right. The stallion shifted, but the woman paid him no mind; she couldn’t see him. When the Gerudo king wanted to go unnoticed, he was always thorough about it.

“I wouldn’t,” Ganondorf called after the woman. She couldn’t hear him, of course, which only fed his amusement. The bandits hadn’t seen the spot of blue amongst the trees on the opposite side of the road. Ganondorf exhaled twin plumes of smoke from his nose and settled in his saddle to watch the show.

The bandits sprang at the hors; two in front of it, two at its middle, and two at its rear. Ganondorf shook his head while the nobleman’s horse reared. He couldn’t understand why they hadn’t attacked from both sides of the road. If the nobleman was a little more clearheaded, he could escape the half-circle of attackers. Instead, he fed his panic to his horse as the bandits closed in. The saddlebags swayed and clinked, and the bandits’ weapons flashed. 

A whistling arrow flew from the trees opposite Ganondorf. It thudded into a leaning tree and fell silent, yet its work was done. The bandits had raised their hands to their ears. The first three weapons dropped from the braced hands when arrows found the palms or fingers. More arrows buried themselves in the same bandits’ hindquarters, encouraging them on their way back into the woods. Ganondorf roared with laughter as they limped by him.

The last three bandits had recovered. Unharmed, they once more moved in towards the nobleman and his panicking horse. Ganondorf was half-hoping they would succeed in their robbery. The nobleman had no concept of fleeing while an enemy was distracted.

Two arrows cut across the bandit closest to the nobleman. She jerked back with a gasp and froze, giving her attacker enough time to notch a third arrow that clipped off the knot of hair at the back of her head. She cried out and whirled around. Her hand went to the back of her head and, discovering the damage, she escaped into the woods as well. 

Her two remaining fellows passed a look between each other. Perhaps they were considering escape as well, but they never had the chance to decide for themselves. Their so-far unseen attacker leapt onto the road atop his horse, scattering leaves and dust. There were two more arrows notched in the bow he had drawn. He made a split-second adjustment to his aim and released. 

The arrows buzzed the right sides of the bandits’ heads, cutting off the top half-inch of the pointed ears there. One of the bandits fled, screaming. The remaining bandit voiced a rallying cry and drew out a dagger. His face contorted into a challenging scowl. It faded away to fear when a sizzling bomb arrow lined up with his head. He was gone the next second in a quick scramble up the wooded slope. 

Link relaxed his bow, snuffed the fuse out with his fingers, and returned the bomb arrow to its quiver. He walked Epona over to the tree where his whistling arrow was embedded and stood up on the saddle to retrieve it from the leaning trunk. After tucking both the whistle and the arrow away, he returned to where the nobleman was collecting his breath.

“I knew I was right in hiring you,” the nobleman said with a shaky smile. 

Link fought the urge to shake his head. He held out an open palm.

The nobleman’s smile faltered. “We agreed on the full trip. I still have ten miles to travel.”

“I agreed to those terms before I knew what kind of a fool you were,” Link snapped. He hated breaking his silence to strangers, but the man wasn’t getting the hint. “You have a fine horse. You could have outrun those bandits the first time I shot at them. Or the second. Or the _third.”_ Link paused. His voice had started to rise. “You could also be a little more observant of your surroundings. A blind man would have seen those bandits. They weren’t even camouflaged.”

“My mind was on other things,” the nobleman claimed.

_Just teach him a lesson already._

_No, just relax and walk away._

Link shook his head, dropped his hand, and took up Epona’s reins. She trotted away from the nobleman under her rider’s gentle urging, leaving the man to call and curse after Link. The trees finally ate up the shouts when Link rounded a corner of the forest road. In the new quiet, he stopped Epona and took a moment to collect his breath. He had wanted to punch the nobleman. Or worse. Link raised a shaky hand to his brow and wiped away sweat. In the corner of his eye, he marked a shadow within the trees to his left. 

Torrent cleared the forest with less grace than Epona had shown. The mare nickered a greeting and spun without prompt from Link, leaving him to sigh and wonder how such a social creature had come to him.

Ganondorf brushed some leaves from his hair and smoothed out the mussed locks. He had cut it recently, Link noticed. “I would have killed them,” the Gerudo king stated as a start to the conversation. “They’re cutthroats, and once they’ve licked their wounds and pride they’ll be right back at cutting throats.”

“I don’t kill people,” Link countered. He stated this with such an edge to his voice that it made Ganondorf pause in his preening. 

“All right,” Ganondorf soothed. He dropped his hands. “So, it’s been…” He paused to think. “…about a month since I saw you last. You’ve been keeping busy, haven’t you? For one, I heard you took down that spider creature that was running around in the Lost Woods.”

“You mean Gohma?”

“Is that what they called it?”

Link nodded. He could remember the battle well. He was hunting the massive, armored arachnid on the edge of the Lost Woods when it nearly dropped on top of him. It was the sight of a large shadow settling over Link that had given him the warning to dodge. Once Gohma was on the ground, the battle was easy. The close-packed trees had limited Gohma’s movement, allowing Link to close in with his sword. Beedle had cried tears of joy when Link met him in Hyrule Field with the corpse. The payment was significant for the ‘collector’s item’. Link had forwarded most of it to the families of his four youngest fans. 

“But you’re not killing these things as much anymore, are you?” Ganondorf asked next. “I’ve heard you’ve been charming them. Well you had to show signs of that particular itch sometime. I just imagined the objects of your desire would walk upright and show sentience.”

“Ha,” Link returned, dryly. “I’m not charming them,” he continued. “I’m just trying to find better ways of dealing with them without causing damage or bloodying my hands--just like you suggested.” Link stretched his arms before continuing, “Did you know bullbos will follow their herd leader unconditionally? All I have to do is scare the leader with a bomb arrow and it will flee, taking the rest of the herd with it.” Link shook his head. “I wish I’d known that two years ago. I took a bullbo horn right here, clean through.” He patted the right side of his abdomen. “I could see my guts. Fortunately, I was near a village. A man there kept me alive until I was strong enough to ride to a fairy fountain. Impa gave me an earful when she heard about it.” Link narrowed his eyes at Ganondorf. “Is that why you’re here? Did she ask you to check up on me?”

“Do I look like the kind of person who takes orders from others?” Ganondorf asked in return. Link shook his head. “I was just missing my best friend.” Link uttered a light scoff. “Hey, how’s that _tatau_ of yours?”

Link frowned. “Why do you ask? It was healed before I left The Fortress.”

Ganondorf twirled a downturned finger. “Let me gaze upon my craftsmanship once more.” 

Link grumbled, but turned Epona around. He tugged his tunic and undershirt up to his shoulders, revealing the inked tern on his back. He tensed at the touch of Ganondorf’s fingers along the lines. 

“It’s bigger than I remember,” the Gerudo king remarked.

“It’s the same size it’s always been,” Link said. He pushed his clothes back down, discouraging Ganondorf’s fingers from further study. 

Ganondorf chuckled. “Of course. So how’s your health been? Your head feeling better? No more ridiculous thoughts, right?” 

“I’m fine,” Link nearly snapped. 

“Hey.” Ganondorf’s sharp tone took away some of the ferocity in Link’s demeanor. “I’m only trying to make conversation.”

Link glowered, shifted, and rolled his shoulders. “It feels more like an interrogation.” 

Ganondorf smiled brightly. “Fair enough. So let’s go out and have some fun while we catch up with each other. We’ll hit the bar in Clock Town and drink ourselves under the table.”

“I don’t drink,” Link said with a distasteful frown. “You know that.”

Ganondorf cursed in exasperation and ran a hand through his hair. “Goddesses, you don’t drink, you don’t partake in carnal pleasure… What do you do for fun--besides channeling a fish or making trouble?”

Link slumped in his saddle and fell into a thoughtful silence. After a half minute, a playful smile crept to his lips, and his shoulders straightened. “Have you heard of Geota Gorge, up in the eastern mountains?”

#

Ganondorf wished he had heard of Geota Gorge. Perhaps then he could have stopped Link in his tracks with a firm no, no, _no._

The ride to the eastern mountains and the subsequent climb to Geota Gorge would have taken more than half a day, so the Gerudo king agreed to meet Link at the foot of the path the next morning. He arrived as promised shortly after sunrise. Link was atop Epona, eating from a bag of mixed nuts and dried fruit. There was a bird perched on his shoulder--a guay. The Hylian laughed when he saw the look Ganondorf cast it.

“Her name’s Kara,” Link introduced. The guay chirped at the sound of her name. 

“I didn’t see her yesterday,” Ganondorf said. He rode up to Link and held a finger out towards Kara. The guay hopped onto it, and he drew her closer to study the shine of her plumage.

Link shrugged his freed shoulder. “She’s not always around. She’s a busy bird.” Even as he said this, Kara took off from Ganondorf’s finger and flapped her way high into the sky, trailing her _ree-ree-ree_ call.

Ganondorf dropped his eyes from the guay. “Any other companions I should know of before they sneak up on me for a bite?”

“Nah, I’m still working on the dodongos,” Link replied. He grinned to show he was only kidding. Or so Ganondorf hoped. “Come on, the path is wide and shallow enough for the horses. The slope’s not too bad on the way to the gorge from this side.”

“And what’s so great about this place?” Ganondorf asked as he fell in behind Link. The Hylian laughed, which triggered the first hint of unease in the Gerudo king.

Now, standing a good distance from the edge of Geota Gorge, a slew of uneasy hints were bombarding Ganondorf’s thoughts. Link was at the edge. He said something as he studied the gorge, but Ganondorf couldn’t hear him over the roar of the wind that blew up from the chasm. The wind was a constant thing. It whipped Link’s sidelocks around his head and pressed his shirt against his chest. Ganondorf felt it passing over his cheeks. 

Link lifted his head and looked back at Ganondorf with a wide smile on his face. He said something again, and the Gerudo king’s look of confusion told him he wasn’t heard. Link walked back and joined him by the horses. 

“It’s a magical phenomenon,” Link explained when Ganondorf lowered his ear. “No one knows how it was made, but it’s been like this for decades.”

Ganondorf could feel the magic deep within the gorge and surrounding landscape, so he didn’t doubt the claim. He was less sure about what Link found so fascinating about it. The wind was impressive, and it held a strange attraction, but in the end it was no more than an eternal gust. “So this is fun for you?” Ganondorf shouted over the wind.

Link laughed; the wind grabbed hold of the sound and swept it away. He went to Epona and dug around in the saddlebags until he found the remnants of his old tent. It was the victim of a fire keese some weeks ago, and had burned to half its size. Link had replaced it with a new tent, but kept the old one around in case he would have need of the fabric.

Ganondorf watched Link cut the fabric into two uneven pieces using his short blade. The Hylian kept the smaller piece for himself and secured it on his belt with a simple knot. For some reason that Ganondorf hadn’t yet guessed, he also removed his weapons and waist pouches from his body. Once these things were done, Link handed Ganondorf the larger piece of fabric, brought the Gerudo king’s ear back down with a tug on his collar, and said, “Watch me.”

“Watch you what?” Ganondorf asked. Not two seconds later he was crying out and making a wild grab for the Hylian. Link had sprinted away, straight for the gorge’s edge. Ganondorf ran after him, but he couldn’t match the speed of the lither Hylian. He was still several feet away when Link launched himself into open air.

Ganondorf skidded to a halt a foot from the edge. His mouth dropped open, and he could only gape at Link. Beyond the gorge’s edge, the Hylian was floating several feet higher than Ganondorf’s head. His limbs were spread, and he had his eyes closed in clear serenity. 

“How--?” Ganondorf cut himself off. The wind, of course. It was so powerful, it was holding Link up. The Gerudo king shook his head, sucked in a deep breath, and called, “Hey!” Link opened his eyes and smiled at Ganondorf. “How do you plan on getting down?” Ganondorf asked. 

Link’s response was to draw his arms in to his sides and bring his boots together. He plummeted like a diving bird, slowed only a little by the wind passing over his vertical body. Ganondorf screamed his name again and looked on, helpless, as Link shrunk to the size of a sparrow. At that point, a tan spot bloomed above Link. The spot grew larger as it rode the wind up to the gorge’s edge. 

“You idiot,” Ganondorf remarked, breathless, when Link had ridden his wind-filled cloth back to solid ground. Link touched down and immediately dropped against the ground, where he rolled from side to side in a fit of laughter. “What’s so funny?” Ganondorf snapped down at him.

Link sucked in a breath and replied, “Your face!” before he fell into hysterics again. The laughter tapered off once his lungs grew tired of taking in shallow breaths. He sat up and flailed his arms. _“Liiiiink!”_ he mocked amongst lingering giggles.

Ganondorf scowled and muttered, _“Phyick idiosta,”_

Link took in a deep breath and sighed. He next gained his feet and pronounced, “Okay, your turn.”

Ganondorf laughed. He laughed a second time. And a third. He stopped laughing when he felt Link pushing at the base of his back. The Gerudo king dug his heavy boot heels into the ground to stop his minimal progress towards the edge. “I don’t think so,” he growled.

Link sighed, and his shoulder fell away from Ganondorf’s back. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me the big, bad king of the Gerudo is afraid of a little wind. _Eterta bowtan tewinta esti, neh?”_

Ganondorf nodded in approval of Link’s accent and replied, “This wind can blow itself to the Sacred Realm for all I care.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Link said. He plucked the tent fabric from Ganondorf’s hands and tied it onto the Gerudo king’s belt. “Just jump straight out like in a dive and spread your arms and legs. The wind is powerful enough even for someone as fat as you.”

“Say that again, Link,” Ganondorf growled. The Hylian grinned and backed out of his way. “I’m not doing it,” Ganondorf told him. “You won’t change my mind.”

So taunts weren’t going to work. Link sighed and fell to a new plan. He dropped his own scrap of tent fabric and began to back up towards the gorge’s edge. 

“What are you doing?” Ganondorf asked when he noticed this. “Link!” His voice took on a frantic edge with each step Link took backwards, and his hands clenched into fists. “Link, stop that now! You don’t have your cloth! How are you supposed to get back, huh? Do you think I’m coming after you, little fish? I won’t. I won’t do it. Link? _Link,_ stop this nonsense!”

Link’s right foot dropped down on the edge, and his heel slipped. His arms windmilled before he regained his balance. Ganondorf was nearly upon him by then, having sprinted forward at the first hint of unsteadiness in Link’s posture. Link used the Gerudo king’s momentum against him. He dodged at the last second, grabbed hold of Ganondorf’s shirt, and shoved him over the edge.

Ganondorf fell for several yards, trailing a yell, before he remembered to spread his limbs. He shot them out and felt the wind catch them. Once he was steady, he regained altitude with agonizing slowness. He rose to Link’s chest level and stabilized there, being too heavy to rise much further. Link smiled brightly when he caught Ganondorf’s eye. “How is it?” he shouted.

“I feel like an idiot!” Ganondorf shouted back.

“But it’s neat, _neh?”_ Link asked. 

“It’s different,” Ganondorf acknowledged. He wavered in the air and rushed to stabilize himself. 

“Try a dive!” Link called. Ganondorf shook his head. “Come on!”

“No!” Ganondorf insisted. He fumbled for the cloth on his waist. Once it was free, he used it to glide back to solid ground, feeling like a fool the whole way. He stumbled upon touching down, and Link laughed. The Gerudo king turned to tell him off only to watch him jump out into the wind again. 

Ganondorf took a seat on the ground and watched the Hylian float and dive over the course of half an hour. When Link had returned to solid ground for good, Ganondorf asked him, “Why do all of your hobbies dance on the edge of death? If you’re not fighting monsters, you’re holding your breath in deep water, or plummeting into gorges.” 

Link shrugged and pushed his disheveled hair from his face. His cheeks were flushed red, and his eyes were bright. “It helps me remember where that edge is, I guess,” he replied after thinking on the question.

Ganondorf groaned. “Enough of that talk.” He slung an arm around Link’s neck and pulled him back to the horses. “I don’t care if it’s male, female, or Zoran, but we’re getting someone to distract you from those ridiculous thoughts of yours.”

“I don’t go in for that kind of stuff,” Link protested. 

“Then you can sip tea and watch me make a fool of myself as I try to pick up a date for the night.”

“Oh, the ol’ kingly charm doesn’t work as much as you’d like, _neh?_ Should I teach you a few of my tricks?”

“I don’t think bomb arrows and whistles will go over well in a bar.”

Link laughed and extracted his head from Ganondorf’s arm. Now that he was out of range of the wind, he was able to comb his hair back into passing neatness. Ganondorf ruffled it back out of place. “Hey!”

“Come on,” Ganondorf urged. He patted Torrent’s nose and heaved himself up into his saddle. “Your fun made me thirsty for my fun. I need to drink away the memory of looking down and seeing my death waiting for me to slip up.”

Link laughed as he mounted his saddle. “All that sorcery at your command, and you’re afraid of falling?”

“Yeah? And what would you know of my sorcery?” Ganondorf asked.

“Just what your mothers told me,” Link answered with a smile.

Ganondorf pulled Torrent to a halt before the stallion had taken three steps. He fixed a startled look onto Link. “What did you say?”

Link’s smile had already dropped. Now his face contorted into confusion, and alarm hunched his shoulders. “What is it? Why are you looking at me like I did something wrong? You had fun here, right?”

There was no hint of deception in Link’s face or voice. Ganondorf nodded to ease the Hylian’s worry, but inside his head he was worrying enough for both of them. _So that’s it,_ the Gerudo king thought as he followed Link down the mountain path. _That’s why I haven’t been able to get into contact with them. They did do something, and they’re avoiding me because of it._ He stared at Link’s back. _That means they’re afraid of how I’ll react when I find out._

Ganondorf thought on how he had hurried to stop Link from tipping over the edge of the gorge. His fear for the young man’s life had driven him to do something he had so far avoided. _That’s a point in my favor, at least. Fear can be a persuasive tool._

##########

**Translations:**

_ezzan:_ [Sheikan] eat

_“Phyick idiosta,”:_ [Gerudian] “You fucking idiot,”


	15. King and Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link joins Ganondorf on a trip to The Milk Bar, where the Hylian finds a friend and an enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write, so I hope you all enjoy reading it. 
> 
> Some Gerudian and Sheikan is spoken. Translations are, as always, provided at the bottom of the text.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you!

# -Blue Arrow-

### King and Queen

Clock Town was a small town in southern Hyrule, a few miles from the start of the Lost Woods. It was enclosed by a high curtain wall which rivaled that of Hyrule Castle. Despite the decorative paint on the outside of the wall, Link always had a sense of foreboding when he looked at it. The entire town came across to him as defensive. He wasn’t fond of the inner design either. Clock Town was split into four sections, each named after a cardinal direction, yet he had found himself turned around inside it more than once during previous visits; each section had more than its fair share of narrow alleys and crisscrossing streets. 

Ganondorf saw the look of unease on Link’s face. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of it either,” he remarked with a small shake of his head. “But The Milk Bar has no equal, both in drink and company.”

Both men knew from experience that their horses would balk at Clock Town’s gates. As Link secured Epona to a hitching post alongside the curtain wall, he wished he had her acute senses. His sharp eyes and ears were better than most people’s, but they couldn’t tell him what was wrong with Clock Town. He only knew it raised the hairs at the back of his neck.

Ganondorf stopped Link with a raised hand before the Hylian had taken two steps from Epona. “Barten will throw you out if he sees those.” He pointed to the quiver and blade at Link’s lower back. Link scowled, but turned around to tuck the weapons away. “You don’t need a security blanket when I’m around,” the Gerudo king added once Link was finished. 

Link’s face flushed with heat. He fell in beside Ganondorf without a word, and together they walked through the town’s east gate. Link couldn’t help but shudder as he stepped into the shadow of the gate. A guard posted on the other side greeted the men in a low voice. 

The sun had set during the journey to Clock Town, and the town had responded by lighting streetlamps and hanging paper lanterns. During the lengthy ride, Link had asked Ganondorf why he traveled so far just for a few drinks. “It’s more than a few drinks,” Ganondorf had answered with a chuckle. “And sometimes it’s good to stretch your legs. You didn’t mind it when we went to the coast, right?”

Link couldn’t counter that, save to say that Clock Town was more than a three-hour ride. He kept his mouth shut, however. It _did_ feel good to see a part of Hyrule he hadn’t seen in months. It was almost like seeing it for the first time. Link smiled when the multicolored glow of East Clock Town’s overhanging lanterns fell over him. The smile dropped once Ganondorf opened the door to The Milk Bar, revealing a staircase that descended into raucous conversation and the heavy odors of liquor and tight-packed bodies.

Ganondorf pushed aside Link’s hesitation by asking, “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me the big, bad Blue Arrow is afraid of a little socializing. Should I pretend to fall down the stairs and drag you with me?” 

Link narrowed his eyes and took the first step down. He jumped a little when Ganondorf closed the door behind him.

The Regn Hylian’s reputation wasn’t as well known in Clock Town as it was in most of Hyrule. Like the coast, Clock Town was almost its own world. It imported significantly more than it exported, so traders often avoided it. The Milk Bar and the town’s yearly festival were the largest draws. The gambling section of East Clock Town was also popular. 

Link would have almost preferred to throw his rupees into fixed games than take the final step down onto The Milk Bar’s floor. The first man to look at him recognized him. Link took back the step he had just taken. There was little room to fight or flee in the bar. Tables and booths filled up most of the space not afforded to the bar proper. A small stage on the far side was more open, but almost two dozen men and women were along the way to it.

The man’s eyes shifted from Link to something behind him. The distaste in his face slipped away, and he bowed his head with a murmured, “M’lord.” Link head a scoff behind him. The next second, a booming voice cut across the bar’s din.

“Barten!” Ganondorf shouted. Link saw one of the two bartenders look up. His bearded face split into a smile. “A round of drinks for anyone who agrees to not show deference to me.”

“You heard the man, ladies and gents,” Barten called. He and his fellow began to pour the drinks while their patrons cheered Ganondorf’s generosity.

“That’s better, _neh?”_ Ganondorf said to Link, who nodded. People weren’t sparing too much attention for them now. They were able to slip between the tables as two more customers. Ganondorf settled Link into a quiet corner booth before he made his way to the bar. Link sat tense in his seat and worked his fingers together. A sound caught his ears, and he looked up to watch a moth beat itself against the glass lantern hanging over the booth.

Two thuds against the table snapped Link’s eyes down. Ganondorf slipped into the opposite seat while Link studied what he had brought to the booth. A large tankard of what Link’s nose recognized as Chateau Romani sat before Ganondorf. The Gerudo king picked it up and took a swig while Link studied the glass that was placed down for him. It was a normal-sized drink, he supposed. He watched the bubbles within the pale red liquid as they climbed the sides of the glass.

“It’s not alcoholic,” Ganondorf assured him. “You don’t drink, right? That’s what you said.” Link nodded. “The bubbles give it a fizzy feeling on your tongue, but it’s harmless. This is a local specialty called Around the Clock. It has twelve different fruits and vegetables in it. You’ll like it.”

“Do _you_ like it?” Link asked as he drew the glass closer. He gave it a cautious sniff and was pleased with the aroma.

“Yeah, but I prefer the harder version,” Ganondorf replied. He watched Link take a cautionary sip. “Good?” Link’s answer was three deeper sips. “All right. If you want more, or anything else, have Barten put it on my tab. He knows you’re with me. Now if you don’t mind…” Ganondorf finished off his drink with a few more gulps and slipped out of the booth. Link watched him return to the bar where he was immediately welcomed and given a stool. 

There were waitresses walking the bar floor, but the idea of bothering them or approaching the crowded bar for a refill didn’t appeal to Link. Therefore, he took his time with his drink while he watched the other people. Their loose behavior under the influence of alcohol was fascinating; it was almost like theater. When Link wasn’t watching the patrons, he sat tense and waited for Ganondorf to send someone to the booth. The Gerudo king’s earlier remarks suggested the idea was once more on his mind. Link found he was overreacting, however, as an hour went by with no visits from eager strangers. In fact, it improved Link’s mood to know Ganondorf wasn’t putting any pressure on him to be more social. He wished Impa and Zelda would take a page out of the Gerudo king’s book.

Ganondorf stopped by the booth some time later with a refill for Link along with a cut sandwich. “You look pale as a ghost,” he remarked when Link raised an eyebrow at the plate. “The food’s average, but maybe it will leave you less room in your gut to fret.”

“I’m okay, actually,” Link assured him. “I’m, um… acclimating. It’s interesting--you know, watching the people.”

“If you say so,” Ganondorf said with a pass of his eyes over the bar. “It’s more interesting to drink with them, I promise you that. But I get it,” he added, quickly, when Link’s eyes tightened at the thought. 

Link took a bite of the sandwich. Ham, cheese, lettuce, and tomato. He wasn’t sure what Ganondorf’s definition of ‘average’ was, but the food tasted fine to him. “Honestly, I was expecting you to send someone along to the booth,” he admitted once he had swallowed his bite.

“I thought about it,” Ganondorf revealed. “Then I remembered you weren’t too keen at The Mayfly. A few curious people asked me about you, though.” He waved vaguely. “I told them you weren’t interested in making friends.”

“Thanks,” Link said. He endured Ganondorf’s ruffling hand with only a small scowl. The Gerudo king chuckled and left Link to the quiet of the booth. 

Link had finished the first half of his sandwich when a familiar voice spoke up in excitement, saying, “Goddesses… Link! This is the last place I expected to come across you!” He looked up and found Shad standing by the booth. The young man was smudged with dirt and dust, and his glasses were streaked. 

Shad took up Link’s hand and shook it as soon as Link recognized him. “It’s good to see you again, my friend. You had me worried all those months. Um… May I?” He pointed to the opposite seat. Link nodded, and Shad sunk into the seat with a sigh of relief. “I’ve been on my feet most of the day,” he explained when Link looked at him in concern. “I came to do some more research on the extinct tribe of people that used to live in the swamp near here. It’s tricky, though. Most of their abandoned land and structures are used by the Deku Scrub tribe, and they’re not the most… amicable people.” He flashed a strained smile.

“They’re very territorial, and they respect only their own kind,” Link stated. “Good luck.”

Shad laughed without humor. “Such sardonic comments are all I hear around here. There used to be so much more to Clock Town. But there was a war between two groups of people in the adjoining Ikana region ages ago. It sucked the life out of Clock Town’s economy at the time, and took away many of their young men when the Ikana king called them into his service. It was a very bloody war--short, but bloody. I think it sapped the faith from the people in this town, and that lack of faith has only grown. You need only look at their Carnival of Time. Each year, the festival is less about the gods and more about promoting vices.”

“I can understand how they feel,” Link murmured with a shrug. He pushed the second half of his sandwich to Shad; the man looked famished. Shad thanked him, picked out the tomatoes, and took a large bite. Link ate the dismissed tomatoes while he thought on the bit of history Shad had shared. “You really know a lot about people,” he remarked.

“Dead people, mostly,” Shad corrected with a humorless puff of laughter. “Sorry,” he added the next moment. Grief flickered over Link’s face, but he waved a dismissive hand at the apology. “My father passed his interests on to me. It worries my mother to no end. She thinks I’ll meet an early, messy death like him. But enough about me. Meeting you in a bar? What are the odds, my friend?”

Link nodded towards Ganondorf, who was surrounded by a large, loud crowd of people with a woman perched on his folded knee. “I’m here with him. I dragged him up to Geota Gorge this morning, and he’s paying me back in kind.”

Shad saw whom Link was talking about, and some of the color drained from his face. “You’re here with Lord Ganondorf? _The_ Lord Ganondorf? King of the Gerudo?”

“He doesn’t like titles.”

Shad shook his head. “And you two are friends?” He got a shrug in answer. “Link, my formidable friend, you keep equally formidable company.” Link shrugged again, and Shad ate the last bite of the sandwich. “So… Geota Gorge?” he said once he had swallowed. “What were you doing all the way up there?”

“Riding the wind,” Link replied. 

Shad’s eyes widened, and he rocked back in his seat. “You… Goddesses, Link, you are likely braver than anyone I’ve ever met! And this is what you do in your spare time? You go about some dangerous hobbies.”

Link had to smile at that; Shad sounded just like Ganondorf. “I came across it a year ago. I was hunting down some lizalfos, and I nearly fell into it at a place where some bushes hide the edge. The wind straightened me up. Once I was done with the lizalfos, I played around with it by throwing things into the wind.”

“And you were one of those things?” Shad asked. Link smiled a little more, and his companion shook his head. “Still,” Shad picked up. “I’m sure you were much more comfortable in the mountains than you are here.”

“I’m okay,” Link said for the second time that night. “So long as I keep to myself, I’m fine. It didn’t feel right to refuse Gan’s offer after he agreed to go with me this morning.”

“Gan…? Oh, you mean Lord Ganondorf.” Shad looked to the bar where Ganondorf and another man were racing to chug the contents of their glasses. Most of the bar patrons were cheering them on with increasing volume. “A king amongst commoners.”

“He’s not a king here,” Link pointed out. 

“I suppose you’re correct there.”

“Do you want something to drink?” Link asked, and Shad turned back to him. “I can put it on Gan’s tab.”

Shad shook his head. “I’m fine. In all honesty, drinking in bars isn’t my cup of tea. A drink with friends and family, sure, but I’m not fond of these sorts of environments. People like myself, well…” He tittered. “We tend to get stepped on.”

“Then why come in at all?” Link asked him.

“I’m not sure, really,” Shad admitted. Link’s frown encouraged him to elaborate. “I was heading towards the Stock Pot Inn to spend the night before leaving for home in the morning. I was heading towards the east gate and was passing by The Milk Bar on my way when I had this… peculiar urge to come in. I can’t explain it, but I’m glad I did, or we would have never run into each other.”

Link said nothing to that. He raised his glass high in a deep gulp and used the opportunity to glance at Ganondorf. The Gerudo king had won his drinking game. He was shaking his opponent’s hand, but he spared a small smile for Link. Link decided not to press the issue. “So where were you so late at night, outside of town?” he asked Shad instead. “Looking to get stepped on?”

“Are you making idle talk?” Shad asked, amazed. Link avoided answering by taking another long sip of his drink. His companion smiled a little before replying, “There’s an ancient engraving on a short cliff face to the north of Clock Town. I was heading out to try and get to it again.”

“So you were heading north by going out the east gate?” Link asked.

“North Clock Town can be, ah… _shady_ after dark. I wanted to avoid it.”

“There are monsters in the field no matter what gate you leave from.”

“Yes, well…”

“And what do you mean by ‘again’?” Link asked next. 

“Ah!” Shad raised an arm straight up with the hand flat. “The engraving is about four feet above my head. I wanted to make a rubbing of it, but I was unable to reach it earlier today. I was thinking I could roll some rocks over to the cliff, or perhaps climb down from the top--”

“So bodily injury is what you’re going for?” Link cut in. Shad slumped and trailed off into a defeated silence. “I’m five-eight,” Link reminded him.

“So…”

“So I’ll guard you along the way, and you can stand on my shoulders. Come on, give me an excuse to get out of here for a while.”

“Ah, well… Yes, all right!” Shad beamed. “Thank you, my friend.”

Link nodded, finished his drink, and stood up. He stretched the nervous tension out of his body before leading Shad through the crowded bar to the stairs. 

“Link!” Ganondorf called when he saw the Regn Hylian on the stairs. Link paused and looked to him, and Ganondorf waved an unsteady hand at the bar. “Come swim in the drink, my little fish.”

 _“Baeka, citil,”_ Link promised. The Gerudian was tough on his tongue after a month out of practice, but he pushed through it. He wanted to get better at it. His grammar was still limited, however. “I’m going to help a friend.”

_“Sceawiat hit eowter zungt wystarde, neh?”_

Link didn’t understand all the words, but most of them caught his ear, and his face reddened. He braced his hands on the railing, leaned over it, and retorted, _“Sceoteow munda, sant bregeta!”_

Ganondorf roared with laughter and turned back to his cups.

Shad stayed on Link’s heels as the Regn Hylian mounted the stairs. “Everything all right?” he asked once Link opened the door at the top. 

“Fine,” Link replied. “He just thinks he’s funny.” He turned his flushed face up into the wind once he was clear of The Milk Bar’s doorway. 

“Bantering with the king of the Gerudo as if he was a commoner.” Shad shook his head. “And in his own language no less. How many languages _do_ you know?”

“Two--Hylian and Sheikan. I have a ways to go with Gerudian, but I know enough to discourage Gan when I need to.” Link pretended not to see Shad adding these notes to a notebook. “So, the north gate is…”

“In North Clock Town,” Shad finished. 

Link spun around in place, looking down each street that branched away from The Milk Bar. “I hate this place,” he muttered.

“I’m not surprised,” Shad said with a hollow laugh. “It messes up a person’s sense of direction. It has something to do with the land’s fields of energy. They make no sense around here--they’re scrambled like eggs. Look at this.” Shad dug into his pocket and pulled out a small compass. He held it out, and in the light of a lantern Link watched the compass’s needle spin back and forth. “This is why each section of town is named after a cardinal direction,” Shad explained. “Otherwise, most visitors would be unable to find their way. But look, there’s a sign over here. We can follow it.”

Shad led the way down the streets and on through to North Clock Town. There, he and Link passed a strange man lurking in a corner. The man never bothered them, however, and the young men were able to pass through the north gate unchallenged. Once outside, Link whistled for Epona. He knew she could free her reins from the hitching post; he had taught her how. A minute later, the mare galloped into view. Link praised her, and started to remove his weapons. 

“So this is Epona?” Shad asked while Link buckled on his quiver. “Malon’s told me about her. She’s very beau--Goddesses!” He pulled his hand away from Epona’s nose just in time to avoid a hard bite.

Link whistled short and high, and Epona backed up a few steps. He frowned at her flattened ears, and tapped the underside of her stiff bottom lip. The mare snorted and pawed a hoof. “Be nice,” Link murmured. To Shad, he explained, “She doesn’t like strangers.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“No, it’s fine. Come here.” Link took hold of Epona’s bridle and beckoned Shad closer with his free hand. “Just stroke her stripe a few times. She’ll warm up to you fast enough.” Shad raised a shaking hand towards Epona’s nose. When he hesitated, Link grabbed his wrist and put his hand down against Epona’s stripe. 

Some of the tension eased out of Shad’s body. “Malon’s horses are a lot calmer,” he remarked while he stroked Epona’s nose. “This one has a bit of wildness to her.”

“She _was_ wild once,” Link confirmed. “Sometimes I think I’m only borrowing her. Then she does something ridiculous like sticking her head into my tent to wake me up, and I wonder how I managed to be so lucky in coming across her.” He dropped his hand from the bridle; Epona’s ears were up again. Shad kept the mare occupied with petting and praise while Link finished fastening on his weapons. The concentration of monsters around Clock Town was known for being unusually high. Everything from guays to dodongos were said to roam in the area. Link wanted to take no chances. He equipped himself with his bow and normal quiver, his two blades, and his shield. 

Shad raised his eyebrows at the assortment of weapons hanging on Link’s person. “You’re a little wild too, you know,” he remarked. 

Link re-secured Epona to a nearby hitching post instead of answering. Before he walked away from her, he looked to a small, round bulge in one of the saddlebags. “Hey, Shad?” Link called, his eyes fixed on the bulge. “What do you know about a…” He strained to remember. “An LD-301 series of artificial life forms?”

“A what?” Shad asked, frowning. His expression answered Link’s question. 

“Never mind. Where’s this engraving?”

After lighting the lantern tied to his waist, Shad led the way down a slope to the bottom of a small, adjoining cliff face. Link scanned the area with every other step. He caught sight of a few Deku babas in some tall grass at the edge of the lantern’s light, but as they were stationary monsters, they were no threat at such a distance. A worse danger appeared out of the darkness in front of Shad. The young man yelped and retreated, putting Link in front to face the menace.

It was a dodongo--a reptilian monster that strongly resembled a lizard. It was almost twice the length of the average Hylian, and much of that length was made up by its thick, powerful tail. The tail provided the monster with the push it needed to move and turn, as this dodongo was still an adolescent and hadn’t yet grown its back legs. When it saw the two Hylians standing a dozen feet away, the dodongo lifted its smooth, scaly head and flicked out a thick tongue to taste their scent.

“They have excellent night vision,” Shad whispered at Link’s shoulder.

“I know,” Link said as he opened a waist pouch.

Shad’s fingers dug into Link’s shoulders. “That tail can break a person’s legs with one swipe!”

“Yep,” Link confirmed. He pulled a small ball out of his pouch.

“So are you going to use your sword or your arrows or your--What’s that?” Shad raised questioning eyebrows at the gray ball in Link’s hand.

“A Sheikan smoke bomb,” Link replied. “Dodongos dislike smoke.” He threw it at the ground in front of the dodongo. The compact bomb exploded, birthing a thick plume of smoke that concealed most of the dodongo’s shape. Link heard the monster roar when its senses were assaulted by the stinging smoke. He and Shad felt the vibrations in the ground as it swiveled on its two legs and tail to take off for calmer territory.

Shad slumped on his feet. “I thought I was about to see some famous Blue Arrow action.”

“Sorry. Maybe next time.”

Shad did his best to hide his disappointment as he took the lead once more. He and Link passed under several rock formations that rose up on narrow columns to fan out in a mushroom-like shape. “Lava flow,” Shad explained when he saw Link looking up with a curious eye. “Centuries ago, the volcano in the mountains there to our right was a lot more active, and the lava flow created this valley and these formations. Imagine this: if we were to go back in time right now, at this spot, we would find ourselves buried under dozens of feet of earth. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Link, who had poor experiences with time travel, nodded politely.

Shad led Link to a section of the cliff face that looked like any other. However, when the lantern was lifted higher its light revealed several lines of ancient text carved into the stone, accompanied by small symbols. Shad ripped three pages out of his notebook (It was a new one, Link noticed) and pulled out a square piece of charcoal. “I feel really bad about this,” he said as he stepped up onto Link’s shoulders. The Regn Hylian had dropped to a knee at the base of the cliff.

“Don’t worry about it,” Link told him. He straightened up with care, keeping his hands on the cliff for stability. Shad wavered, and his boots dug into Link’s shoulders. He steadied quickly, dropped the lantern’s handle into the crook of an arm, and began to make a rubbing of the engraving. The faint scratch of the charcoal against the paper came to Link’s ears, but he pushed it aside and listened instead to the surrounding area. 

“I’m not even sure what this is, to be honest,” Shad explained as he worked. The first page, now full, was swapped for a cleaner second. “A lot of different people have claimed this part of Hyrule as home in the past millennia.”

“Uh-huh,” Link muttered. He shifted his feet to ease some of the strain on his back. The relief was minimal. “Almost done?”

“Halfway,” Shad replied. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I have worse loads on my shoulders.” 

“Don’t be afraid to speak--”

“Shhh!” Link hissed, and Shad fell silent. Link closed his eyes and listened to the darkness. He heard the sound again, and felt it through his feet. “Hurry up. Now.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not yet, but it could be. Just hurry.”

“What is it--”

_“Vomeir orrhos eower!”_

“Okay, okay! Yes!” The scratching resumed, a little faster now. 

Link listened to the sound as it grew louder. He recognized it as one of two things. He hoped it was the one and not the other. It was hard to tell by sound alone. Link only knew it was drawing closer, and quickly. “Shad, finish up,” Link said through clenched teeth.

“A few more inches--” Shad yelped when a deep snort came out of the darkness. “What is that?” he cried.

 _“That_ will be here in ten seconds!” Link snapped. The scratching came more frantic than before.

“Okay, finished, okay-- _aahh!”_

Link had pulled his shoulders out from beneath Shad’s boots. Shad dropped into the Regn Hylian’s arms, and Link backed out of the way of the monster that walked out of the gloom a second later. It came to a stop at the bottom of the cliff. Once clear of the monster’s huge girth, Link dropped Shad to his feet only to watch the young man sink to his knees.

“Is that… a _king_ …”

“No,” Link assured him, shaking his head. “It’s a _queen_ dodongo. We’d be running for our lives if it was a king.”

Easily ten times the size of the earlier adolescent, the mature queen dodongo’s shoulders rose past the halfway point of the cliff face. The monster was reptilian as well, and packed with heavy muscle. The back legs were grown and fully developed, equal to the size and strength of the forelegs. The tail had shortened in comparison to overall body length, but it was still long enough to touch the ground. Claws as long as Link’s arm sunk into the ground as the queen dodongo attacked the cliff face with her broad mouth. She had a mixed set of fangs and molars; they tore chunks of rock out of the cliff face and crunched them up. The beast’s swallows were almost as loud as her bites. 

“It’s benign?” Shad asked from the ground.

Link shrugged. “For the most part--unless you make her mad. Queen dodongos aren’t as hot-headed as the kings.” He helped Shad to his feet. 

“I thought dodongos were carnivores,” Shad remarked while he brushed dirt from his pants. A few small pieces of rock tumbled across the ground towards him and Link. 

“They are,” Link confirmed. “But the queens need more than meat when they’re pregnant. The metals in the rocks feed the fire bladder in their bellies, which keeps their young warm as they incubate.”

“They don’t lay eggs like reptiles?” Shad asked.

“No, that’s part of the reason why dodongos are classified as monsters instead of reptiles. Baby dodongos are born alive, and lethal.” Link beckoned Shad forward. “Come on.”

Shad raised both hands and took a step back. “No. _No._ I’m not going near that thing. I’m perfectly fine watching it from here.”

“Shad, it’s okay. I promise you, you barely register in her mind right now. And you’re with me." Link gestured to his equipped self. "Now come on, I’ll show you something cool.” Link took a step closer to the queen dodongo and smiled when Shad fell in beside him. The young man followed Link with shoulders tense and head ducked. He balked again when Link ducked into the shadow of the queen dodongo’s belly, but some urging on Link’s part encouraged him to continue forward. 

A foot above the young men’s heads, the queen dodongo’s belly flexed with each of her swallows. Link raised his hands and walked around, feeling along the smooth, cool scales. Shad split his attention between him and the monster’s clawed feet until Link called him over. 

“Here’s the fire bladder,” Link said when Shad had reached his side. Shad lifted a shaking hand and placed it against the queen dodongo’s belly, beside Link’s hand. He felt heat radiating beneath the scales. “The bladders go for insane prices on the black market during the winter,” Link continued. “They stay warm for months after a mature dodongo’s death, and nobles like to use them to heat their bedrooms.”

“It’s illegal to sell them?” Shad asked.

“Well, yeah,” Link answered with a shrug. “It’s illegal to kill a queen or king dodongo unless in self-defense because so few dodongos live to maturity. Naturally, their spoils are illegal as well.”

“But they’re monsters,” Shad pointed out.

“They’re still a part of the ecosystem,” Link pointed out. “Monsters are only labeled as monsters because they prey on people, or they differ radically from other species--like having black blood. But they play their part in the wider world as well.” He moved his hands to the right and--after some searching--he stopped with a smile on his face. “Feel here.”

Shad moved his hand to where Link’s hand was, and he felt a new sensation. It was a constant thrum interjected with harder kicks of movement. 

“Baby dodongos,” Link said, answering the look of amazement on Shad’s face. “At least two dozen, probably more. Like I said, they don’t all live to maturity. They fall victim to predators, disease, and the elements. Only one or two will survive to adulthood.”

Shad tittered. “That’s good news. I can’t imagine two dozen king and queen dodongos running around.” He glanced over the whole of the queen dodongo’s underside. “How old do you think it is?”

“It’s almost impossible to know without studying her bones,” Link replied. “But she’s fully grown and sexually mature, so she has to be at least thirty. They can live for over a hundred years.”

“That’s as long as Hylians,” Shad remarked. 

Link nodded and watched in approval as Shad studied more of the queen dodongo with increasing ease. His hands no longer shook, and he even took a rubbing of the monster’s scaly skin. Afterwards, Link told him it was time to go. The queen dodongo’s swallows were slowing; she would be moving away soon. 

“Wait until I tell Malon about this,” Shad said as he and Link returned to Clock Town’s north gate. “I finally have a story to tell whenever she brings up the helmasaur incident.”

“You two talk about me?” Link asked, and his stomach twisted.

“Sometimes, and only about good things,” Shad assured him. The words didn’t ease the knot in Link’s gut, leaving him to fret until it worked itself out.

Upon reaching Epona, Link stored his weapons back amongst his saddlebags. He hadn’t used them after all, but he wasn’t disappointed, and he knew it was always better to be safe than sorry when wandering Hyrule. Epona nickered a goodbye when the two men walked through the gate. The strange man in the corner of North Clock Town was gone, and Shad’s good memory of the streets led him and Link back to The Milk Bar without any backtracking. 

“You’ll share a drink with me?” Shad asked Link as he opened the bar’s door.

Link was spared having to answer when a rush of sound bounded out of the opening door. His ears picked out Ganondorf’s deep voice amongst curses, shouts, and the crash of tumbling chairs. He pushed past Shad to hurry down the stairs. The young man followed, calling out to be careful. 

A large Hylian slammed Ganondorf against the wall at the base of the stairs. Link stopped two steps shy of them and watched as Ganondorf punched the man away. The man staggered back into a crowd of people who were busy encouraging a second fight closer to the bar. Barten and his fellow bartender were attempting to calm things down, to little effect.

Link put his hands on his hips and shot Ganondorf a look of annoyance. “I’m gone an hour, and I come back to you declaring war on Hyrule.”

“It’s in my blood, little fish,” Ganondorf answered, smiling. “How was your date?”

“Should I let him keep beating you up, _sant bregeta?”_

 _“Neh,_ he’s done.” Ganondorf nodded his chin at the man, who had sunk into a chair to nurse his head. “He thought he would take a swing at me while the other fight was going on. He thinks I killed his grandfather. I told him there are more dangers in The Fortress besides me, but he wouldn’t listen. Hey! That’s enough now!” Ganondorf swam into the crowd and moved towards the two men fighting in the midst of it. 

Shad made his way down to Link on cautious feet. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” Link answered as he watched Ganondorf pull the fighting men apart. The encouraging shouts and cheers died away while the Gerudo king used his eminence to negotiate a tenuous peace. “Let’s grab a booth,” Link said next. Shad nodded and followed him down the last two stairs. They swung around the railing and began to work their way through the crowd. The general atmosphere was still volatile, and when Shad treaded on a man’s foot by accident, anger sparked again.

Link caught the beginning of Shad’s apology before it was cut off by the hard smack of a fist. He turned without thought and swung at Shad’s attacker, putting all of his Goron training into the punch. It floored the much larger man. 

Pandemonium broke out once more. Someone grabbed at Link; he spun and tossed out a fist without looking. His knuckles met a cheekbone with a satisfying crack. In the lull, Link looked to Shad and found him cowering under a booth table. The Regn Hylian positioned himself in front of it and raised his fists to the three men approaching him. Beyond them, Ganondorf had his hands full with his own opponents, and there were small pockets of other fights popping up to the left and right.

The men attempted to engage Link all at once. He retaliated at each touch, fighting more like a beast than a Goron. He never gave them the chance to land more than the lightest slap. He kicked at kneecaps, swung at chins, and bit into forearms. The men retreated in short time, howling and cursing.

_Good. That was good. Are there anymore?_

Link’s back was alight with pain. He had strained it while acting as a stepstool for Shad, he guessed. He rolled the ache out of his shoulders as a new opponent--the largest yet--approached him. “Big men fall the hardest,” Link cautioned through a grin once the man was within earshot. 

The man smirked and took a large dagger out of his vest. “I’ll be sure to tell that to your desert scum boyfriend when I put this through his heart,” he said with a flick of the dagger. “But first I’ll warm up with you. Too bad there are no monsters here to protect you, brat.”

_Just back away._

Link’s eyes hardened into a glare, and he moved in before the man could make a play with the dagger. He slashed regardless, but Link was already inside the swing of his arm, ducking beneath it. The Regn Hylian straightened up, driving a blow to the underside of the man’s chin with all of his speed behind the fist. The man’s head snapped back, his feet tangled, and he crashed backwards against a table. 

Link shook the pain out of his fist. Hitting the man wasn’t like hitting a Goron, but it was close. He was as quick to recover as well. The dagger slashed out at Link’s face seconds later. He jerked back in time to avoid losing his nose; a few hairs parted from his bangs instead. 

_want to fight_

_have to relax_

Someone called Link’s name. He thought it was Ganondorf, but between the thoughts running in his head, and the immediate danger, he could spare no attention for the Gerudo king. 

The dagger whipped out again and again, swiping and thrusting at Link. He dodged it as well as he could, but the limited space of the crowded bar was against him. A chair met the back of his knees, stopping him, and the dagger sliced into the front of his clothes, drawing a thin scratch across his stomach. His lapse sent a hot flash of shame and anger through him from head to toes. No more inner voices shouted their advice. They were buried beneath a thickening haze of fury.

The other fights had stopped; all eyes were on Link and his opponent now. The Regn Hylian could feel them watching his every dodge and shift of feet. His opponent showed no sign of tiring. The man laughed and shouted discouraging remarks with every swing of the dagger. Link had to get the weapon away from him. The man wasn’t allowing him to move in anymore. 

The bar’s patrons cheered both sides. They booed Link frequently, only to whoop at an admirable dodge the next moment. Their fickle support irritated Link, especially when they refused to move out of his way. Their body heat pressed against him, and the back of his tunic dampened with sweat. 

_Relax. Relax and back away,_ a voice whispered in Link’s head. Aryll’s voice. He pushed it aside in favor of the deeper, older voice of a monster that encouraged him to fight. He waited for his opponent’s next thrust. When it came, Link dodged to the left, snagged the man’s wrist under his right arm, and drove his free palm up against the trapped limb.

Ganondorf’s second call was answered with a sharp snap of bone and the subsequent scream. The crowd fell silent and looked on while Link’s opponent howled in pain. His arm was bent the wrong way. 

The dagger had dropped to the floor. Link picked it up in a tight fist, but a hard blow to the back of his head discouraged him. He spun around with hand on his head to find Ganondorf’s hard eyes glaring at him, as fierce and yellow as a dragon’s stare.

“Drop it,” the Gerudo king hissed. The dagger clattered to the floor. “Go sit down,” Ganondorf ordered next, and Link retreated to the booth where Shad had taken shelter. He sat there and stewed while Ganondorf eased the tension in the room and improved everyone’s moods by covering the next two rounds of drinks. Two men helped Link’s injured opponent up the stairs and out of the bar. 

Shad crawled up from beneath the table and took a seat opposite Link. He eyed the Regn Hylian with caution before offering a thin smile. There was a bruise growing on his cheek. “Thank you for helping me. Now I have another story to tell to Malon.” Link rubbed his red knuckles and didn’t answer. “Well… I should get going to the Stock Pot. I’ll see you some other time, Link. It was good to catch up with you, and I hope you have a better night.” Shad left quickly after that, leaving the seat open for Ganondorf when the Gerudo king returned with two glasses. 

Ganondorf set a glass of soft Around the Clock in front of Link. His own glass oozed a heavy odor of liquor. “You got something on your tunic,” Ganondorf remarked with a gesture at Link’s sleeves. 

Link rubbed at the black stains without looking at them. “It’s fine.” He took up his glass and gulped half of it down in a few swallows. He waited for Ganondorf to leave the table, but the Gerudo king stayed in his seat for the rest of their time in the bar. People came over to speak with him, and he gave them his eager attention around countless glasses and tankards of booze. Link sat quiet on his side and sipped at his one glass while a clock on the wall _thunked_ its way through an hour. By the end of it, Ganondorf was slumped half-asleep in his seat. Link took his glass to Barten, asked him to forward the extensive tab to The Fortress, and returned to the booth. 

“Hey!” Link called. He snapped his fingers in front of Ganondorf’s face. The Gerudo king jerked out of his doze. “Time to go,” Link said. 

“Yep,” Ganondorf agreed. He eased himself out of the booth and followed Link through the bar. He had enough energy to pass boisterous partings with the other patrons, but he slumped against the wall at the base of the stairs. “Headache,” he explained when he saw Link’s irritated face.

“That’s what you get for getting drunk,” Link chided.

“I’m not drunk,” Ganondorf growled, and indeed his eyes cleared when he pushed off from the wall. “It takes a considerable amount of alcohol to get to me.” He began to climb the stairs. Link followed close behind and provided support when Ganondorf threatened to fall back on his unsteady feet. “Who in the Sacred Realm thought it was a good idea to put stairs in a bar?” was the Gerudo king’s last statement before he and Link passed into the cool night air of East Clock Town.

It was a different sort of adventure for Link to get Ganondorf to the Stock Pot Inn. After the Gerudo king took a third stumble over a loose cobblestone that wasn’t there, Link finally put Ganondorf’s arm around his shoulders and took on most of the man’s weight to drag him to the inn. The clerk behind the counter didn’t appear too upset by Ganondorf’s drunkenness. She gave Link the key to the last room of the inn and promised him it wouldn’t be a problem to pay the fee in the morning. 

There was one more set of stairs for Ganondorf to conquer. He gave a half-effort, and Link took up the slack with muttered curses. Finally, _finally,_ their rented room was reached, and Link helped Ganondorf to one of the two beds within it. The Gerudo king dropped onto his back against the mattress, stretched out with a satisfied sigh, and closed his eyes. His hand caught the tail of Link’s tunic before the Hylian could take more than a step away. 

“Sit with me awhile,” Ganondorf murmured in his half-sleep. Link sighed, but sunk down onto the edge of the bed. “You held yourself pretty well back there,” Ganondorf remarked.

“Fighting a man isn’t too much different from fighting a monster,” Link replied in a distant voice. 

“You need to keep a cooler head, though,” Ganondorf added. Unseen by Link, his eyes opened, and he marked the black stain against the blue of the Hylian’s tunic. 

“I could say the same of you,” Link retorted. He sighed again and dropped to his back across Ganondorf’s lower legs. His boots scuffed against the low rug that covered most of the room’s floor. “I wanted to beat him unconscious,” he admitted. “He called you desert scum.”

“I’ve been called worse, trust me,” Ganondorf said with a sad chuckle. “In Hyrule, no one turns a second eye to amphibious people or sentient creatures half-made of rocks. But if you dare to have dark skin coupled with red hair, it doesn’t matter if you have ‘king’ in front of your name or not. You’re still treated like a pariah at best. Oh, they may make nice, but in their hearts they mistrust you.”

“I don’t mistrust you,” Link said.

“I know, little fish.” Ganondorf had to stop himself from adding, _but you should._

Link’s third sigh was felt in Ganondorf’s legs. “So let’s be pariahs together,” the Hylian suggested. “We can travel the worlds beyond Hyrule and get into all kinds of trouble.”

Ganondorf yawned. “Sure, Link,” he agreed in a sleepy voice. “We’ll get right on that as soon as Lady Impa gives her blessing.” Link cursed, bringing a smile to Ganondorf’s face until it was warped by another yawn. “Goodnight, my little fish.” 

“Goodnight, _sant bregeta,”_ Link returned good-naturedly. 

Ganondorf chuckled again and dropped his eyes closed. To the closest observer, it appeared he was asleep within minutes. Yet through the thinnest of slits between his eyelids, Ganondorf watched Link. The Hylian continued to lie across Ganondorf’s legs until a few minutes after the Gerudo king had slowed his breaths. He then pushed himself up and shook his sidelocks and ponytail into order. After rising to his feet, he walked to the end of the bed and pulled off Ganondorf’s boots. The Gerudo king had to bite his tongue against laughter; he was ticklish--a fact he kept close to his chest. 

With the boots removed, Link turned down the room’s lamp to a dim glow. Ganondorf waited for him to drop onto his own bed, but Link wandered around instead. He paced for a minute or two before he focused on something unseen atop a dusty bureau. The something clattered, and Link jerked away from the table in a guilty motion; his hands hastily repaired whatever was undone. Once he was finished, he moved away from the bureau and went to the window. He was slow in opening it to prevent any loud scrapes, but he climbed out of it quick enough. Ganondorf listened to the scuff of boots against brick until the sound died away.

Ganondorf gave Link an hour’s head start, during which he sobered himself up some with a bit of sorcery, put his boots back on, and strolled about the quieting town. He spent some time winning a fair sum of rupees by counting cards in the gambling district. Some of it was tossed into the hat of a group of circus performers. The rest went into his pocket as he strolled out of the east gate. 

Torrent was gone from the hitching post outside the gate. No one was foolish enough to steal a horse whose tack screamed “Gerudo”, which left one possibility. Ganondorf cast his eyes over the ground and then swept them up, following a line of fresh hoof prints pressed into the grass. He spied a dark shape against the darker night. The shape nickered when Ganondorf walked across the field and reached it.

“Next thing I know he’ll have you prancing about, too,” Ganondorf said as he rubbed Torrent’s neck. The stallion shook his mane and dropped its mouth back down to the grass. His tack was stacked with care on the ground alongside Epona’s; the mare stood not far off with her head low in sleep. Her master was asleep as well some feet away, lying on the grass with his head supported by his bedroll. Ganondorf approached him on silent feet and crouched down. There was a peculiar orb in the crook of Link’s arm. The Gerudo king removed it and returned it to the Hylian’s saddlebags. He went back for the blue stone hidden in one of Link’s waist pouches.

“Hello, _Bleufarwe,”_ Impa greeted through the stone after Ganondorf activated it in his hand. “I was actually just thinking about calling on you before going to bed. It’s been two days since we last talked.”

“It’s me, Lady Impa,” Ganondorf replied. 

The stone in his hand flickered with the hitched breath that Impa took in response. “Where is Link?” she pressed, her voice hard. 

“He’s fine. He’s sleeping right next to me,” Ganondorf answered. He dropped the stone to his lap and reached out to push up one of Link’s stained sleeves. He didn’t have to move it up far; an inked wingtip rested at the back of the Hylian’s elbow. “Although how long he stays fine, I don’t know. That little situation we talked about is getting worse.” 

“You told me you were looking into it!” Impa snapped. 

“Quiet,” Ganondorf chided, gently. He waved a hand over Link, and the Hylian’s wakening body relaxed back into a deeper sleep. He abolished the stain on Link’s clothes next; he could do that much, at least. “The answer has been evading me. I would like to ask your permission to go to the source of the problem and see what we’re dealing with.”

“The source?” Impa’s voice was wary now. “How do you mean?”

Ganondorf stretched up a section of Link’s tunic to better view the cut in it. His free hand fixed both it and the undershirt. A spit-slickened finger healed over the scratch in the Hylian’s stomach. “Link’s asleep right now, which means his mind is a little more vulnerable. I want to look into it. I can reach his deeper mind through the thin part of a dream. Whatever curse has come over him will be rooted there.”

Impa took a moment to think on the suggestion before she asked, “What’s the risk to Link?” 

“A stranger nightmare, perhaps, but really I’ll be more at risk. The mind can be an appealing place, and the mind of another even more so. It’s too easy to get lost in memory.”

“Oh, well if only you are at risk…”

Ganondorf had to laugh. “Lady Impa, if it wasn’t for your prejudice I would certainly pursue you.”

Impa’s snort of disgust told Ganondorf what she thought of that. She added in a hard voice, “It isn’t prejudice. It’s a thorough knowledge of history.”

“I’m not my ancestors,” Ganondorf returned. 

The tone of his voice quieted Impa for a while again. When she next spoke, she sounded less stiff. “I grant my permission,” she said. “Please try to help him,” she added in a softer voice. “Every time I try to be more aggressive with him, I fail because I care too much.”

“We both failed in that regard then,” Ganondorf said. “A Sheikah and a Gerudo king brought down a peg by one spirited Hylian. The Goddesses forbid someone ever learns of _that.”_

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Impa promised, sounding almost like a little girl. In a sterner voice she said, “Let me know the results.” The stone flashed in Ganondorf’s lap when Impa killed her end of the connection. 

Ganondorf snuffed out the stone and returned it to Link’s waist pouch. Once done, he got to his feet and walked to the saddlebags where he found a half-full water skin. He returned to Link with it, taking a deep swig along the way. After sitting down, he splashed water over his left hand and rested it palm up against a folded knee. His head craned back, and his eyes stared up at the milky smear of stars across the sky. Ganondorf watched them until he felt as if his head was full of their soft light. He blinked for the first time in three minutes, dropped his head, and reached out towards Link. His hand pushed up the Hylian’s bangs, leaving the wet palm clear to press against the brow. With his hand settled, Ganondorf closed his eyes, and his mind jumped.

##########

**Translations:**

_“Baeka, citil,”:_ [Gerudian] “I’ll be back.”

 _“Sceawiat hit eowter zungt wystarde, neh?”:_ [Gerudian] “You’re going to show him how you’re the master of tongues, no?”

 _“Sceoteow munda, sant bregeta!”:_ [Gerudian] The ‘sceoteow munda’ is literally ‘close your mouth’, but is more commonly translated to ‘shut up’ in Hylian.

 _“Vomeir orrhos eower!”:_ [Sheikan] “Move your ass!”


	16. In Memoriam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In search of an answer behind Link's recent troubles, Ganondorf walks into the Regn Hylian's dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all enjoying this fanfiction. The chapters will start to go up a little faster now, as I want to finish re-editing and re-posting this story so that I may get to work on new _Zelda_ fanfictions.
> 
> Both Sheikan and Gerudian is spoken in this chapter, but it is all translated in-text.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you!

# -Blue Arrow-

### In Memoriam

Clangs and thumps of weapons and armor. Shouted orders and encouragement. Running feet, tired grunts, clapping and whistles… The training yards outside Hyrule Castle’s barracks were a mess of noise and motion as men and women learned and reinforced teachings with each other. Amidst all of the activity was a Sheikah woman standing still, turning only a little when needed to study some new exercise or drill. When her legs moved into each turn, the young boy huddled behind them turned as well. 

_“Nitera, gese?_ Neat, right?” Impa said to the boy. He raised his head a little more and looked up at her while his hands worked into the oversized blue tunic that he was wearing. _“Ic heye tace soudeours._ I train the soldiers here, Link.”

The boy called Link looked out across the yards once more. Impa watched him as he raised his head higher to study the soldiers. His worrying hands dropped from the tunic, but he tensed again when a man approached him and Impa. Link ducked back behind the Sheikah woman’s legs before the man came to a stop in front of them.

“Hello, Lady Impa,” the man greeted with a warm smile and a nod of his head. He had a squared jaw with a rugged face topped by dirty-blonde hair. He was shorter than Impa, and much lighter-skinned, but he was dressed differently from the other soldiers much like she was. When he saw Link, he asked the Sheikah woman, “Who’s your friend?”

“Hello, Master Rusl. Link, meet Master Rusl. _Soudeours hiteall tace._ He also trains the soldiers.”

“Link, huh?” Rusl crouched down and peered at the hiding boy through the gap between Impa’s knees. “So you’re the one I keep hearing about. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Link. How long have you been at the castle now?”

Link dug his fingers into Impa’s legs. She sighed and told him, _“Andsvar quaere,_ Link. Answer the question.” But Link shook his head, and so it was Impa who replied, “A little over a month. This is his first time to the barracks. He keeps watching the soldiers from his room, so I thought he might like to see them up close. But he’s very shy. _Lytel rabeta timere hitis._ He’s my timid little rabbit.”

“And a very cute little rabbit, too,” Rusl remarked with a brighter smile at Link. “I bet those brilliant blue eyes of yours get all sorts of attention.” One such blue eye peeked out at Rusl. 

A scream cut across the yard. Link jumped and pressed closer to Impa, who sighed once more in irritation. “Someone got a scratch again,” she muttered, and Rusl laughed. “I have to go check on this. _Estai heye._ Stay here, Link.” Impa moved away, stumbling a little when Link wouldn’t immediately let go of her legs. He tried to follow her, but a stern look from the Sheikah woman stopped him in his tracks. 

Link was left alone in the middle of the yards. His hands knotted together before they went to opposite sleeves to pull at his tunic’s fabric. The nervous habit stuttered to a stop when Rusl’s shadow fell over Link. The boy looked up with hunched shoulders and found a red apple hovering over him. 

“A peace offering for the little rabbit,” Rusl explained. He spun the apple by its stem, and it snapped off. The freed fruit dropped, but Link caught it. “Good reflexes. That’s a Hylia apple. Do you know why they call it that?” Rusl pointed down to a yellow spot on the apple’s round top. “They say that mark is made by the Goddess Hylia’s lips. She kisses each apple to let everyone know it’s ripe.”

Link took his first cautious nibble on the yellow spot. He chewed, swallowed, and nibbled again while he continued to watch the training soldiers. The nibbles broadened to full bites, and before he knew it, he was biting into the apple’s core. When Link was done, he turned a cautious eye up to Rusl.

Rusl saw the look and jerked his head towards the main building. “Do you want to try some training too?” he asked Link. “Follow me.” He moved away without waiting for an answer. After a few seconds, Link took off after him, stumbling in his haste. He left the apple core behind for the ants and real rabbits.

On the building’s right side there was a small, fenced-in yard with a line of wooden dummies set up. Nearby was a shed that housed an assortment of weaponry from training swords to sharp glaives. Link stood in the doorway and peered inside while Rusl searched the shed. The man came back out with a small, wooden shield and a wooden training sword. He presented these to Link, and the boy accepted them after some hesitation. With Link equipped, Rusl led him to the closest practice dummy. It had a bucket for a head and a padded body. Its arms stuck out like a scarecrow’s, with a shield in one hand and a wooden sword in the other. 

Rusl crouched down a few feet to Link’s left and pointed to the dummy. “Let’s see a slice. Just swing your sword at the dummy. Give it a good whack.”

Link hesitated, but some more encouragement from Rusl tightened his grip around the sword’s whittled hilt; he swung it in a slow, overhand motion. The sword’s wooden tip stuttered and thumped down the dummy’s padding. The dummy pivoted a little on its rotating pole.

“Good!” Rusl praised. “Try it again, a little faster.” Link did so, and the practice sword’s ‘cut’ fell across the dummy in a smoother motion. “That’s very good, Link!” Rusl moved his arm in a sweeping motion. “Try a horizontal slice now. But keep your shield up because the dummy might attack you, too.”

Link slashed horizontally with more enthusiasm, but he forgot to raise his shield. The dummy pivoted from the force of the blow, and its shield came around to knock Link to the ground. The boy fell to his rear with a stunned look on his face. It wasn’t long before the surprise twisted into anguish.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right.” Rusl helped Link to his feet and brushed the dirt from his tunic. The boy was crying, and Rusl fell to soothing him. “It’s okay to cry,” he explained once Link’s tears had petered away. “But once we’re done crying, we get back up and we keep going, okay? Can you do that?” Link nodded. “Okay. Let’s give swordplay a little break for now. Come here.”

Rusl dug a small training bow out of the shed next. He handed it to Link and showed him how to belt on the quiver. Even at its tightest, the quiver slipped down the boy’s shoulders to snag around his hips. Link left it there, as it freed his arms to learn how to hold and draw the bow. Once Rusl was confident Link had the strength to wield the bow, he showed the boy how to notch an arrow and sight along it. 

Targets were lined up on the other end of the small yard. Rusl moved Link to within fifty feet of one and instructed the boy to try his hand at shooting at it. Link drew back the bow like he was shown and sighted along his arrow. He released within a few seconds, and the arrow thudded into the target three inches away from the bull's-eye. 

“Um… Wow,” Rusl remarked with honest astonishment in his face. He laughed when Link turned a curious look up at him. “Try again,” the man urged. “Maybe it was beginner’s luck,” he added under his breath.

Link drew a second arrow from the quiver at the small of his back. Already there was confidence overtaking the unfamiliarity of holding and drawing the weapon. He didn’t take as long in aiming, and the arrow thudded similarly close to the bull's-eye, a little higher than the first.

Rusl laughed. “Goddesses, Link, you’re a natural! I bet a year from now you’ll be shooting bull's-eyes from a hundred yards away with every arrow!”

A cautious smile came to Link’s face. He pulled out a third arrow, aimed, and released. This one hit the target a half-inch behind the first, and Link’s smile sagged. But Rusl called it “grouping”, which he assured Link was a good thing, and Link’s small smile returned. He sunk four more arrows into the target in a relatively close group before the sound of clapping came to his ears. 

Impa was leaning on the fence of the small yard. Link hurried over to her with his bow in hand; Rusl followed. The man dropped his hand onto Link’s head, but the boy ducked out from beneath it with a frown. Rusl laughed the reaction away. “He’s good,” he said to Impa. “Really good.”

“I saw that.” Impa smiled at Link. “Maybe he should take up the hobby.”

“I’d be willing to teach him both archery and swordplay,” Rusl offered. “I have the time, what with you taking on the new recruits these days.”

Impa looked down at Link again. _“Eowold licia?_ Would you like that?” Link shot a cautious look to Rusl, scuffed his feet, and nodded at the ground. “Then it’s settled,” Impa said to Rusl. “Thank you.”

In the lull of conversation, Link rushed to push the bow up to Impa. She got the hint and pronounced it, _“Bugane.”_ An arrow was raised next, and Impa named it, _“Farwe. Bugane e farwe per min lytel rabeta timere._ A bow and arrow for my little timid rabbit.”

_“Bu… Bugane e farwe,”_ Link repeated. When he saw Rusl look to him in surprise, he turned his back to the man and muttered the words some more under his breath.

So memories permeated Link’s sleep, Ganondorf realized. Yet this dream was thinning out. He could feel the edges of a new one coming on as Impa and Rusl hashed out the details of Link’s training sessions. Ganondorf imagined it would be the master’s death. Dreams that took on the characteristics of memories had the terrible habit of segueing into nightmares like that. 

It was a good thing the dream was thinning, as already Ganondorf had fallen into the emotions that saturated it. He had felt the young Link’s anxiety in the midst of the yard, and his confidence when firing the bow. But these emotions and memories did not belong to Ganondorf. The Gerudo king turned into the thinning part of the dream and pushed through it as the training yard around him was replaced by Hyrule Field, and the young boy’s muttered Sheikan deteriorated into screams.

Ganondorf came out of the dream and stepped into a desolate village. More exactly, he appeared in the middle of four identical houses built of sun-hardened mud and stone. An open door faced him at each cardinal direction. The floating feeling of a dream was gone, along with every sound and movement save Ganondorf’s own. He turned in place, and the scuff of his boots against the dirt tore the quiet. He recognized the function of the place. It was a crossroad of memory in Link’s mind. Everyone had one, although it was different for each person. Ganondorf’s own, he knew, was a tall tower with many doors and immeasurable staircases.

Ganondorf plucked a dagger from its sheath on his belt. He crouched and laid the blade flat against the ground, pointing northeast (if the overhead sun’s position could be trusted). A flick of his fingers at the hilt’s base sent the dagger turning. It spun clockwise for five rotations before coming to an unnatural, sudden stop with the tip pointing to the east house. 

Ganondorf knew what he wanted to find, but that didn’t mean Link’s subconscious was going to make things easy. He picked up the dagger and approached the east house, bracing himself for anything. A step through the doorway brought him to Hyrule Field. Link was lying on the ground with limbs spread to soak up the sun. He was perhaps seventeen. Epona walked up to him and dropped her nose for an affectionate nibble at his bangs. Link smiled and raised a hand to pat her nose.

Ganondorf backed out of the memory and returned to the crossroad. Another spin of the dagger sent him south. The memory here was old and long-buried. Time and grief were sapping the color out of it, but Ganondorf didn’t need those details to recognize the toddler cradled in his older sister’s arms. Both of them were crying--the boy more so--and they were covered in the dirt of hard, fast travel. 

The sadness in this memory weighed on Ganondorf’s shoulders. He hurried back to the crossroad where he sucked in a few deep breaths. Once he was steady, he spun his dagger once more. 

North this time. Hyrule Field again, and with the ground trembling in the wake of a herd of bullbos turning away from a bomb arrow explosion. The memory here was altered as well. It rippled at its torn edges, and a high whine was constant in the air. The fabric of the memory vibrated with pain.

Ganondorf swept his eyes around and saw Link standing a short distance away. The bottom of his tunic was soaked in blood--red blood, not the black of monsters. It was turning his tunic a dark purple. As Ganondorf watched, Link raised his bow in one hand with another bomb arrow hanging in the other. The Hylian didn’t have the strength left to straighten out the awkward arrow, let alone to draw the bowstring back. He staggered, and the bow and arrow dropped from his shaking hands.

On instinct, Ganondorf ran forward and made to catch Link when he fell back. The Hylian passed right through his arms to hit the ground. The second bomb arrow, never shot, rolled away and exploded, sending a plume of dirt and stone over the area. The bullbo herd panicked, and its leader--a grey-blue male with a bloodstained horn--led his frightened fellows behind a hill where they fell out of sight. 

The pain pressed in, feeling all too real. Ganondorf looked down at himself, expecting to see a wound. He looked up again and watched Link roll over onto his knees and right hand. The left hand was holding together the ragged hole in his gut. The other side of the wound showed the extent of the damage, proving the effort as pointless. The Hylian’s face was pale, and his eyes were wide in shock.

Ganondorf staggered out of the memory. The sight of a man on the horizon approaching to help didn’t quell the agonizing pain in his stomach. He had to flee before he could be convinced that he was dying himself. He couldn’t afford to get wrapped up in the memories like that. He would never escape. Upon returning to the crossroad, Ganondorf shook his head and sought a better path. 

Swimming at six years old with fish almost as long as him. Watching two pyres burn on the edge of a lake. Watching ashes being spread at a different lake. A lizalfos’s tail club--heavy enough to shatter a skull--missing his head by an inch. An injured mare. The taste of apples. 

Memory after memory, Ganondorf searched for something that would lead him to what he was looking for. The crossroad was a tricky place; the Gerudo king had little influence over what it showed him. He tried steering it regardless by speaking his pleas aloud in hopes that Link’s subconscious would hear them. It never seemed to, as it led Ganondorf here and there across the Hylian’s memories. The Gerudo king would have minded less if not for the shadow that he felt hanging over every memory he visited. It wasn’t visible, yet it cloaked nearly every memory with its oppressing presence.

Despite the ill-feeling shadow, Ganondorf lingered in one memory when he felt a snag that promised he was close to finding his answer. It was a rainy night in Hyrule Field. Clouds covered the stars and moon, and everything was coated in the wet, inky blackness. In the midst of the dark, a weak fire sputtered beneath an overhanging rock formation. Ganondorf moved into its circle of light and looked down at Link. 

The Hylian was young in this point of time; the just-there details of the memory told Ganondorf he was only fifteen. Curled up beneath his bedroll beside the fire, he looked far younger. His hair was damp with sweat, and his face was pale. Ganondorf saw veins showing black through the skin. One of Link’s feet was sticking out of the bedroll. It was covered in a pus-stained bandage, confirming Ganondorf’s guess: skulltula bite. Fatal within two days if left untreated.

Along with the cold and sickness that was putting a shake in Ganondorf’s body, the heavy weight of indecision saturated the memory and weighed down on the Gerudo king. A blue stone was in one of Link’s shaking hands; it wasn’t lit yet. Ganondorf understood the hesitation, and he felt he knew why this memory had snagged at him. He used what little power he had within Link’s mind to push the memory ahead a few hours. 

Ganondorf stopped the memory a short time after sunrise. The ground glistened from the night’s rain, and Epona was grazing on the crisp grass. Another mare was close by her, dressed in Sheikan tack. Ganondorf looked down at Link again and saw Impa on her knees beside the Hylian. Her clothes were damp from the night’s wet ride, and her face was taut with concern as she fed medicine-laced broth between Link’s gray lips. The bandage was changed and the black veins were gone, but it would be another day before the Hylian would be back to passing health. 

Ganondorf walked out of the memory with a cautious smile on his face. “Good, Link, we’re getting closer. A little bit more now. Just aim me as if I’m your pretty blue arrow.”

The dagger pointed west next. Ganondorf walked into the indicated house, saw the memory, and sighed with relief as he took in the bonfire. Gerudo, traders, and travelers were gathered around it, boisterous from drink and the energy of the night. It was fuzzy around the edges, however; Link was half-asleep at this point in the memory. Ganondorf remembered how the Hylian’s cheek had dropped against his arm. Even as he recalled this detail, the very thing happened in Link’s memory.

Ganondorf was ejected out of the memory when the blackness of sleep fell over it. He found himself returned to the crossroad. Another spin of the knife led him west again. The memory here was another one he shared with Link, and he discovered he had finally found what he was looking for.

The Gerudo king’s chambers fell into place beyond the doorway. On a long table, Link lay chest down with his chin resting on an arm. The other arm stretched out beyond the edge of the table, bouncing in boredom. The scents of blood and pigment tinted the air. 

Ganondorf recognized the memory as a point in time near the middle of the completion of Link’s _tatau._ That was why the Hylian looked bored; he had grown used to the pain after the first day of the work, and lying still wasn’t a favorite of his. The memory-Ganondorf was filling in the tern’s crest with green pigment. While he worked, he put forth a few phrases in Gerudian. _“Selpti ict nota.”_

“Um…” Link closed his eyes for a moment and translated, “I need help.”

_“Givat ict hydot?”_

“May I have water?”

_“Ict naut hros.”_

“I need a horse.”

_“Juria ictam.”_

“Gan has sand for brains.”

The memory-Ganondorf knocked Link over the back of the head. Link made a show of agonizing pain as he rubbed the assaulted spot. “I’m hurt!” he translated, grinning over his shoulder. The memory-Ganondorf pushed the Hylian’s head back down before standing up from the stool he was perched upon. “Where are you going?” Link asked. “It was only a joke!”

“I just need to piss,” the memory-Ganondorf assured him. He put aside his current _tatau_ tool and vanished into the washroom off of the bedroom. 

The scene lurched. Ganondorf almost didn’t sense it, having fallen into the comfortable familiarity of the memory. He reached out with his power just in time to catch the edge, and for a moment there were two memories laid over each other like two different pieces of stained glass. Ganondorf pushed aside the false one, and the true memory slid into place. 

Link lifted his head from his arm. Two aged women had appeared in the room without sound or motion. Confusion marred Link’s face for a few seconds before he eased his features to greet in a polite voice, “Hello.”

Ganondorf’s fists clenched together, but as this was only a memory he could do nothing as his mothers approached Link. They were identical in appearance with long noses, dark skin tinted green from years of sorcery (Ganondorf’s own was going the same way), and white hair tucked into buns. Their dress was similar with the only difference being their preference in jewels; Kotake preferred sapphires while her sister Koume favored rubies. 

“This kid’s the one?” Kotake asked her sister once they had reached the table. She spoke in Gerudian, so Link frowned as his mind caught only the occasional word. Ganondorf understood all of it, much to his dismay.

Link pushed himself up to his forearms. “I’m not a kid,” he said, having recognized a word. He was ignored. 

Kotake waved a dismissive hand. “We should just kill him and get it over with.”

Something in Kotake’s voice and gesture, or perhaps a caught word, made Link’s eyes widen before they narrowed in wariness. “You’re Ganondorf’s mothers, aren’t you?”

Koume pushed him flat against the table once more with a rough hand. His chin knocked the table, and he winced. “Yes, but you wouldn’t know it looking at this,” she answered while her free hand waved over Link’s _tatau._ “Look at this sloppy sorcery. He didn’t learn this from us, Kotake.”

“Get off of me!” Link snapped from beneath Koume’s hand. He was ignored again.

Ganondorf couldn’t remember hearing any of this from the washroom. There was more than one spell working at the time here. He wished he could abolish them through the memory, especially when Kotake pulled a dagger out of her voluminous sleeve. 

“I can carve his heart right out through his back.”

To Link’s credit, he didn’t scream or try to fight, even when the dagger’s point came to a rest against his back. He lay still, and Ganondorf thought it likely saved his life. Without his struggles to distract her from her thoughts, Koume was able to continue studying the _tatau._ She raised a hand to her sister, and the dagger was pulled away. “We can use this,” Koume pronounced.

“I thought we were going to kill him,” Kotake argued. “He’s the Hero reborn. He has the blood.”

“But not the motivation,” Koume tacked on. “Our Ganny has made no moves, and so the Hero hasn’t awoken.”

“’Ganny’? Are you talking about Gan?” Link’s face worked its way into anger. “What do you have planned for him? He called you pests. What do you want with him?”

Ganondorf was touched, but he wished Link would shut his mouth and worry more about himself. Even as he thought this, Kotake smacked Link across the back of the head, much harder than her son had done in jest. The memory waxed and waned with a high ringing sound while Link’s consciousness tottered from the blow. Koume and Kotake were speaking to one another. Their voices wavered until Link’s mind settled.

“…use this to provide motivation,” Koume finished. 

“Do you think it will work?” Kotake asked her sister.

“It must. If Ganny won’t instigate his fate, then we’ll have the kid stir things up. Once Ganny sees how much better things can be with Hyrule cowering at our feet instead of giving us handouts, he’ll realize we were right all along. And we’ll have gained a new ally in the process.”

“So they fight, they awaken, and Ganny takes over Hyrule once he defeats the Hero,” Kotake summarized, nodding in approval. 

“No,” Koume said, and her sister sagged with a sigh. “The boy will better serve as an ally, I said. Hyrule is already wary of him. When they see him at Ganny’s side, their morale will break further. He just needs a few… adjustments. Yes. His blood is ripe enough for that, as are his emotions.”

Link was lying still once more. It changed when Koume and Kotake dropped a fingertip each to his back. The lines of the unfinished _tatau_ flashed red, and Link screamed. His muscles jerked, and if it wasn’t for Koume and Kotake holding him down with their free hands, he would have thrashed his way off of the table. It was difficult for Ganondorf to watch, but he had to know what happened. Fortunately, whatever spell his mothers had used was short. After ten seconds or so, they pulled their hands away, leaving Link to pant on the table. He tried to push himself up, but his shaking arms failed him. 

“Such a weak boy,” Kotake remarked as she and her sister vanished into thin air.

The memory lurched again. Ganondorf let it go and watched Link revert from distressed to serene in a split second. There was no hint of pain or weariness in his body. He stretched his arms out and settled his chin back onto his arm just as the memory-Ganondorf walked out of the washroom. The present Ganondorf understood what had happened: for a short while, his mothers had altered time. They weren’t strong enough to stop it, but they had stretched it to execute their task in the few minutes that their son had spent out of the room. 

The memory-Ganondorf shook the water from his cleaned hands, picked up his tool, and sat down on the stool. _“Sant bregeta,”_ he said as he settled.

Link frowned. “What’s that mean?”

“Sand for brains,” Ganondorf muttered as he backed out of the memory. Link’s joyful laugh followed him until the silence of the crossroad cut it off. A pitying chuckle left Ganondorf’s lips. “And here I thought bringing him to The Fortress would protect him for a while.”

The Gerudo king had two options. He could stand in Link’s mind cursing himself for his foolishness, or he could try and get to the source of his mothers’ sorcery and stop it. He chose the latter, and he moved to the middle of the crossroad to once more spin his dagger. 

“Come on, Link, I want to help you,” Ganondorf murmured while the dagger spun. “Show me where it hurts.” The blade turned, glinting, for almost twenty rotations before it spun up onto its point and twirled in a blur of speed. A high ringing sound came off of it until Ganondorf reached down and snatched it up.

The ground beneath where the dagger had spun caved into a shallow circle. Ganondorf sheathed the dagger and dropped a hand to the depression. Something moved beneath his fingers, and he caught a flash of black. He was on his feet and backing away the next second. 

Something emerged from beneath the ground with a terrifying shriek. Ganondorf stopped at the edge of the crossroad between the north and west houses. If he tried to cross the border without a tether to the crossroad, he would find himself lost forever. He pulled out his dagger once more as the silhouette of a moldarach fully emerged. It shook dirt from its black carapace and snapped its shadowy pincers at the air. 

“A nightmare,” Ganondorf muttered. Link’s sleeping state was bleeding into the crossroad. Ganondorf had lingered too long, and the borders of Link’s mind were blurring, eroded by the Gerudo king’s presence. Once he left, things would return to normal. But he couldn’t leave. He had to find the source, and that meant taking care of the nightmare first. 

In Link’s mind, Ganondorf had only what he carried on his person in the real world. He couldn’t bring a weapon into existence, and any sorcery could have permanent effects on the Hylian’s mental state. He had only his dagger. He raised it and mentally recalled the details of a real-life moldarach. Its mouth and eyes were weak points. Ganondorf could just make out the suggestion of those shapes in the shadowy moldarach. He charged for the nightmare, his dagger at the ready.

The moldarach’s tail knocked Ganondorf away. He was sent flying through a doorway where he fell into Hyrule Castle gardens in the midst of winter. Link was nearby, eleven years old. He was rolling a ball of snow; building it up to complete the snowman nearby. Princess Zelda was rolling a similar ball to create the snowman’s head. The children laughed when they passed each other going in opposite directions.

Ganondorf hurried out of the memory and back into the crossroad. The nightmare spied him and rushed forward. Ganondorf slashed with his dagger, but the blade had no effect except to disturb the moldarach’s shadowy form for a few seconds. The nightmare was still able to hit him well enough. One of its claws knocked him back against the wall by a door. He was inches away from falling into the void of Link’s mind. Ganondorf pushed away from the house and circled the nightmare with his dagger up. He had to keep trying. Perhaps the nightmare would tire soon. He rushed in to engage it once more.

Before the full distance to the moldarach could be closed, two figures appeared between Ganondorf and the nightmare. Ganondorf slid to a stop and stared at them. He could make out a young woman on the right and an older man on the left. Further details were obscured by the bluish-white light of their makeup. They raised a hand each to the moldarach, and it burst apart. Hair-thin pieces of shadow fanned out in a wide array before condensing into a ball of blackness that burst into shards of short-lived light. 

The ground further caved to expand the hole that the emerging moldarach had created. A steel staircase was revealed. It led down to a door that glowed with decorative strands of blue light. The white figures pointed down the stairs before they vanished.

Ganondorf relaxed, and sheathed his dagger. “Thanks, Link,” he said before he approached the stairs and descended them. The door opened at a touch of his hand, and he entered the black space beyond it. If the crossroad was quiet, this new space was the epitome of silence. Not even Ganondorf’s heaviest breaths could hold their own against the stifling hush. His pulse beat in his ears, and he would swear to anyone he could hear the rush of blood flowing through his heart. 

The darkness was nearly complete as well. Arcs of blue lightning occasionally jumped in the distance, giving off no sound, and a peculiar halo of light bloomed beneath every silent step Ganondorf took, but the rest was as black as ink. This was a deep place; as deep as any normal person could go in a mind without dying. To go deeper required training for years in the skill. (Nabooru had such skill, Ganondorf knew. She had used it on him once.) Here, there were no doorways offering choices. There was only an endless horizon of shadow. 

Ganondorf crouched and spun his dagger on the black ground. It rotated in a whirl of white light, stopped, and shot across the ground as if someone was pulling it by a string. Ganondorf jogged after it, and after an immeasurable time had passed he found himself in front of an ovoid shape made of white lightning. 

The shape rose more than twenty feet up, and it was circled by rings of golden light that crisscrossed each other at various points. Ganondorf reached out and trailed his fingers through one of the golden strands. This was his sorcery; the spell he had placed in Link’s blood to help him calm his grief. Yet there had to be more than these few strands. What had happened to it all, and why was it centered here?

Ganondorf peered closer at the ovoid shape, and his eyes caught the end of a golden strand feeding into it, further up towards the narrower end. Upon passing through the barrier of white lightning, the golden strand solidified and dropped to the ground as fine, white dust. It reminded Ganondorf of ash, or bone powder. There were half a dozen such piles at the base of the ovoid shape. The Gerudo king had the good sense not to reach in beyond the white lightning, but he did crouch in order to study the piles more closely. 

Something moved within the lightning; a black shape against the black. Ganondorf fell back and pushed away from the shape, using his heels and palms. A feather-like rustling had accompanied the movement. It was enough to put a shake in the Gerudo king’s body. Sound was unnatural here, as was the white shape. Taking them in together, Ganondorf understood what he was seeing. It was an egg. A curse was incubating within Link’s mind and body, and it was soon going to hatch. Judging by the way it was breaking down Ganondorf’s sorcery, the Gerudo king had a feeling it took its nourishment from negative thoughts and feelings. His more benign sorcery wasn’t welcomed.

Ganondorf rose to his feet. “I’m sorry, Link, but this is beyond me,” he spoke into the darkness. He would have to speak to Nabooru before he proceeded in getting rid of the curse. She could direct him on how to extract it from the root of Link’s mind without causing harm; or perhaps she could do it herself. There was little time, however, and from both Impa’s account and what Ganondorf had witnessed, the Gerudo king guessed that any strong, negative emotion on Link’s part was going to speed up the process. 

“And we all know how fond you are of your temper,” Ganondorf muttered to Link’s subconscious as he closed his eyes. His mind jumped up, and he found himself in the crossroad again. Another jump brought him back to Hyrule Field outside Clock Town. Ganondorf pulled his cramped hand away from Link’s brow and stood up to take a short walk around the area. His mind felt light and his body, displaced. 

A minute or so of walking helped Ganondorf to come back to himself. He returned to Link, sat down, and rolled a cigarette. It was a difficult task with his shaking hands, but the first drag of the sharp Gerudian tobacco eased the tremble in his fingers. Ganondorf took out the gossip stone once more and called to Impa. He didn’t waste time with greetings. “My mothers placed a curse on Link, and it could break loose at any time.”

Impa was quiet for a while. Ganondorf could imagine all sorts of reactions playing out on her side of the conversation. The stone flickered and flashed. “What sort of curse?” she finally asked. There was a hint of accusation in her voice.

“I don’t know its exact intention,” Ganondorf admitted around an exhale of smoke. He could tell her a little more, but he didn’t think Impa would take his mothers’ conversation about conquering Hyrule lightly. Ganondorf couldn’t work with mistrust. He was also still unsure about what the curse was supposed to accomplish. “I only know it feeds on negative emotions, and its eroding my own sorcery to better draw nourishment. I’m going to ask Nabooru to help me in extracting it. She can go deeper into minds than I can. She can find a way to cut the curse out without harming Link. There’s a hitch, though.”

“Whatever the fee, the Royal Family--”

“I’m not talking about payment,” Ganondorf cut in with a shake of his head. “The curse is eating my sorcery, but it’s also a perversion of it--sorcery that I rooted in blood magic through Link’s _tatau._ No matter how we remove the curse, the _tatau_ will have to be removed as well. Imagine Link’s reaction when I tell him that.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand. And he can always get it redone.”

Ganondorf shook his head. “You’re not listening. Before anything could be explained to Link, imagine his reaction when I or Nabooru tell him that something meaningful to him has to be removed.”

Impa understood now. “He’ll be angry, or upset.”

“Negative emotions,” Ganondorf confirmed, nodding. “It might be enough to crack the curse free before we can extract it.”

“We could always do it without his knowing--perhaps while he’s asleep, just as you did now.”

“And when he wakes up and finds the _tatau_ gone, what then? If you want to break his trust like that, be my guest.”

Impa was again quiet for a while before she answered, “If it was to save Link, I would hurt him.”

Ganondorf had to admire Impa. She would make a fine Gerudo. But while her suggestion had merit, it was the wrong answer. “You may think that’s best,” Ganondorf replied, “but it would be Silbarine all over again for him. He might not survive the heartbreak.”

“He has you to fall back on in my place.” Impa said this with difficulty.

Ganondorf shook his head. “I’m the one who exposed him to this danger.” He sighed long and deep. “Let me talk to Nabooru about all this. She may have a suggestion that we’re overlooking in all of our worry. I’ll be in contact through this or other means. Until then, try not to nag at Link. He _can_ take care of himself.”

“Not as well as he thinks,” Impa snapped with a hint of disapproval, and Ganondorf smiled a little at the return of bite to her voice. “Do you know how many times he’s almost died out there?”

Ganondorf’s smile dropped as his mind went back to Link’s ashen, shocked face and the pool of blood forming beneath him; to the clubbed tail; to the black veins. “Yeah. But listen…” He shook the memories away. “He’s older and more skilled now. And I’m watching over him too. He’ll be fine until we can get this curse out of him.”

“I hope so,” was all Impa said before she cut off her side of the connection. 

“Yeah, me too,” Ganondorf said to no one. He snuffed out Link’s stone and returned it to the Hylian’s waist pouch. He watched Link for a few minutes in silence while he finished his cigarette. The Hylian’s fingers twitched often, and there were occasional tics in his face. 

A small plan formed in Ganondorf’s mind while he watched Link. He wasn’t the only one with his eyes on the Hylian, he had realized. “How nice is this?” Ganondorf asked. “You and I getting along instead of fighting to the death… The Goddesses likely can’t wrap their heads around it. But it’s a nice change to be friends instead of enemies, don’t you think?” Link’s answer was to maybe breathe a little deeper. 

“If only you knew,” Ganondorf continued. “For all your efforts to balance on the border of death, it’s sitting six inches in front of you.” He took out his dagger and dropped the point to Link’s neck. “It was good while it lasted, little fish, but my mothers are right--it can’t last.”

“Finally, Ganondorf, you see reason.”

Ganondorf whipped the dagger around and threw it. Koume screeched, “A trick!” and disappeared in a ball of fire before the dagger could strike her. It sailed away into the dark landscape while Ganondorf leapt to his feet and moved in towards Kotake. She wasn’t as quick as her sister, and she soon found her son’s hand around her neck. 

“Vultures,” Ganondorf spat over his mother’s squawked protest. “Not pests, but scavengers. You’re just waiting for one of us to die, is that it?”

“We want you to live, Ganny!” Kotake screeched. She was smart enough not to struggle too much or fight back with magic. She stood on her toes and breathed as well as she could with fingers clenched around her windpipe. “With every opportunity you let pass by to kill the Hero, you are doing your ancestors a dishonor!”

“Link’s not _the Hero,_ and I’m not my ancestors!” Ganondorf roared back. “My ancestors are dead--victims of their folly. I want to live in peace, and that means spending my days in both The Fortress and Hyrule with companions of my choosing. This is _my_ life, and I am not your puppet!”

“No, you are the Goddesses’ puppet,” Kotake returned; her son’s eyes narrowed. “And one day--tomorrow, a year from now, a decade--they will grow weary of your dithering. Do you think it’s a coincidence that your ancestors and that brat’s clash every ten generations or so? It’s all preordained, Ganondorf.”

“It doesn’t have to be _this_ generation,” Ganondorf pointed out. His voice had a slight shake to it.

“We have seen it in the stars, Ganny. Your playtime with the Hero will last only so long.”

Ganondorf tightened his fingers, and Kotake screeched a little more. “Is that what your curse is all about?” he asked her. “You’re going to force us into battle?” He shook her to encourage an answer.

Kotake screeched and pleaded before finally revealing, “Koume says the boy could be useful!” Ganondorf stilled his hand, and she continued, “He’s responding well to the curse. While we would like to see you kill him, he could be beneficial as an ally in conquering Hyrule.”

“The Fortress is a thriving city with connections to Hyrule and the worlds beyond it that grow every year. What more could you want?”

“Everything! It’s what we’re owed, Ganondorf! The Hero has won too many times, but not _this_ time. We’ll make sure of it!” 

Ganondorf pushed her away in disgust. His mother was quicker this time; she vanished in a puff of frosty air. In the wake of her words, her son stood on shaking legs and tried to get a hold on his anger. It wasn’t any good, and he took a moment to let loose a roar of rage. Some of Ganondorf’s tension left with the scream, but he had to pace for a few minutes before he was able to return to Link’s side with a steady head. Along the way, he recalled his thrown dagger. It zipped back to his hand out of the darkness, and he sheathed it.

The earlier sleeping spell was still in effect; Link hadn’t moved through all of the commotion. Ganondorf waved a hand over him, dispelling the sorcery. Link’s shoulders shifted, and he opened his eyes to look up at Ganondorf. Guilt warped his face. “I couldn’t sleep in the inn,” he explained as he sat up. “I could feel Clock Town pressing in on me.”

“It’s all right,” Ganondorf assured him. His voice had no hint of his earlier anger in it. “I’m going back, though--not that I’ll be doing any sleeping either.”

“Just how long has it been since you last slept through a night?” Link asked Ganondorf.

The Gerudo king didn’t have to think on the answer. “Seven years. I was twenty-three, and it was the night before my mothers performed a sort of… ceremony. I haven’t had more than an hour’s sleep at any one time since that day.”

“Must be nice,” Link mused. Ganondorf shot him a questioning look, and he elaborated, “You don’t have to worry about nightmares or memories upsetting you.”

“I get plenty of those in the daytime,” Ganondorf countered. “But you’re braver than me for facing them in the dark of night.” A surprised look came to Link’s face at that. “And hey, before I forget: Thanks, Link.”

Link frowned. “Thanks for what?”

“For being you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ganondorf laughed at Link’s confused face. “Don’t worry about it. Listen, I’m heading back. There are a couple people in The Milk Bar who will help me put the room I’m paying for to good use, seeing how you won’t be there. Meet me at the inn in the morning so that I know a monster hasn’t eaten you in the middle of the night.”

Link frowned. “Are you leaving tomorrow? I mean, leaving me?” He sounded disappointed.

“What’s this? You actually want company?” Ganondorf teased. Link turned his reddening face away. “We all can’t spend our days running around Hyrule Field. I need to get back to Nabooru in The Fortress. There’s something I have to ask her--and I should probably do a bit of ruling as well, seeing how I’m king. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon after that.” Ganondorf said this last with heavy words that caught Link’s ear. The Hylian looked up at him with concern. “It’s nothing, my little fish. Go back to sleep.” 

A subtle wave of Ganondorf’s hand helped Link along in putting his head back down against the bedroll. The Hylian would sleep until sunrise now. Ganondorf gave Torrent a pat in parting and left him and Epona to guard Link in the field while he returned to The Milk Bar for a few distractions from his worries.

##########


	17. The Spice of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After taking a step towards tackling his dependence on his past, Link meets with Impa and Zelda, and they join him on a mission to tackle a troublesome king dodongo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued support!
> 
> Sheikan is said here and there in his chapter. The translations are at the bottom of the chapter, although the context is provided.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you!

# -Blue Arrow-

### The Spice of Life

Much of Clock Town was in shadow, as the morning sun was deterred by the town’s curtain wall. However, there was enough of a glow in the sky to light Link’s way as he cleared the gate leading into East Clock Town. In the middle of the main plaza, he stopped and looked up when he heard a bird’s call. The black shadow of a guay flitted into view. Link whistled, and the guay dove down to alight on his shoulder.

“Found me, did you?” Link asked Kara. She chirped around the red rupee clutched in her beak. The rupee was dropped into Link’s palm when he held it up to the guay. “Thank you.”

Kara chirped and hopped up to the top of Link’s head, where she settled into his hair. Link sighed, but let it go; he pushed on to the Stock Pot Inn. The clerk was a different one this morning--younger, and half-asleep. She didn’t appear to notice Kara when Link walked by the counter, but she offered Link a greeting around a wide yawn.

Link knocked on the door to Ganondorf’s room with a heavy hand, remembering that the Gerudo king might have company. No one answered, and Link called, “Gan, I’m coming in,” before he opened the door. The room beyond was quiet and still. Link’s bed was as untouched as it was the night before, but Ganondorf’s bed was disturbed by two forms asleep under the sheets. Link inched close enough to study them, moving on quiet feet, but he stopped when he saw that the man in the bed wasn’t Ganondorf. Link sighed and cast an annoyed look around the otherwise empty room. The washroom was vacant as well, and his irritation deepened. 

“Try the baths, dear,” the woman suggested in a sleepy voice. Link turned to the bed and saw a delicate arm wave at the back wall of the room, indicating the rear of the inn. 

With a nod of thanks, Link slipped out of the room, closed the door behind him, and went downstairs to the entrance to the baths. There were two doors--one for men, and another for women. Link opened the former and stepped out into the outdoor baths. The main feature was a wide pool of steaming water divided down the middle by a high, wooden wall. Ganondorf was soaking on the far side of the pool with his arms propped atop the edge. His eyes were closed, and his head was tilted back.

“I expected you earlier than this,” Ganondorf said when Link reached the end of the pool. He opened his eyes and dropped his chin down.

“I had to see to your horse as well as mine,” Link reminded him. “And I was hungry, so I snagged a rabbit beforehand.” He kicked off his boots, rolled his pants up, and lowered himself onto the edge of the bath so as to drop his feet into the water. 

“A rabbit feasting on a rabbit,” Ganondorf muttered to himself with a smile.

Link looked up from the water and frowned. “What?”

Ganondorf shook his head. “Never mind. How’d you sleep?”

Link shrugged a shoulder. Kara fluttered a wing atop his head. “All right, I guess. Just more of the usual stuff. My head has this tendency to march memories through my sleep like the acts of a play, but…” He cast Ganondorf a curious look. “You were in those acts this time.”

Ganondorf chuckled. “Imagine that.”

“Yeah it was strange,” Link remarked. He shrugged it off the next second. “Must be because I spent all day with you yesterday.” His feet swished back and forth beneath the water. “Dreams are weird.”

“I wouldn’t know anymore.” 

“That’s right, you don’t sleep.” 

“Nope. I fill the time with distractions. Responsibilities, training, people--it all helps me to remember to forget.”

Link frowned again, this time at the water’s surface. “How do you do it?” he asked in sudden seriousness. “You’ve got two lovers in your bed while I’m sleeping on dew to avoid everyone. How are you so good with people?”

“Well, it helps to have ‘king’ in front of your name,” Ganondorf replied. “Aside from that,” he added in haste, seeing Link’s frown deepen, “it just takes practice. You learned how to wield a bow and sword over time, right? The same applies to people. You have to learn how they handle by growing familiar with them. It also helps to talk more.” This last was said with a pointed look that Link avoided. “May I ask why you’re so quiet aside from a few exceptions?”

Link’s feet stilled in the water. Ganondorf didn’t think he was going to answer, but the Hylian proved him wrong by replying in a quiet voice, “One word was enough to take away my whole life.”

“That’s funny, you seem to have a new life at your fingertips,” Ganondorf pointed out. He pulled himself out of the pool and wrapped a towel around his waist. “You should think about grabbing hold of it.”

Link scoffed. “You sound like Impa.” 

“I take that as a high compliment,” Ganondorf countered. He walked up to Link and scratched Kara’s head with a finger. “I’ll see you later, little fish. Behave yourself.”

“Yes, master,” Link replied with a sarcastic drawl. His shoulders were still hunched when Ganondorf stepped back into the inn and closed the door on him. The Gerudo king lingered on the other side of the door until he heard the splash of water that indicated Link had gone into the bath. That was all right then; a soak would ease the Hylian’s worries. 

Ganondorf returned to his room where he finished drying off and redressed. “You have the room until noon,” he called as he left. The man in the bed raised a hand in acknowledgement. Ganondorf closed the door, paid his bill at the counter downstairs, and left the inn. He couldn’t put Clock Town to his back fast enough; it was a relief to step outside the east gate. Torrent was tethered nearby alongside Epona. Both horses greeted Ganondorf. He patted Epona goodbye before climbing up into Torrent’s saddle.

Seeing the grass underfoot overcome by sand little by little put cheer into Ganondorf’s heart. He came to a stop in the shadow of the Gerudo lands’ gate and relished the cool of the shade while the gate rose up to welcome him back to The Fortress. In the early afternoon, the city was already on its feet and running. Ganondorf passed through the streets and alleys atop his stallion, taking his time to soak in the details. It delayed the moment when he had to face Nabooru with the problem he had caused.

Only after a lengthy ride through the city, seeing to his horse personally, and a change into fresh clothes did Ganondorf make his way to the throne room where he knew Nabooru would be seeing to concerns. The room was deep in the old fortress, and small; the line of people was out the door. They moved aside to allow Ganondorf the space to walk into the room. He rewarded them for their deference by ordering everyone out. Nabooru remained in the throne chair--an angular sandstone seat made more comfortable with furs. 

With the room clear, Ganondorf dropped down at Nabooru’s feet and laid his cheek on her knees. Her skin and clothes smelled of the desert, mixed with a hint of perfume. He closed his eyes to better take it in while Nabooru’s fingers threaded through his hair; her fingernails against his scalp was paradise. 

“This is about Link,” Nabooru guessed.

“My mothers don’t approve,” Ganondorf confirmed. “They’ve taken measures against him.”

“Yes, I see,” Nabooru said in a faraway voice. Her fingers had stilled at Ganondorf’s temple. After a few seconds they twitched, and Nabooru’s voice returned to normal. “This isn’t good.”

“If we’re forced to fight, I won’t be able to control myself,” Ganondorf admitted. 

“You can’t know that, Ganondorf,” Nabooru eased. She brushed his hair away from his forehead and massaged the lines there. “I know you’re strong enough not to give in so easily.”

Ganondorf shook his head as well as he could against Nabooru’s knee. “When we first met, I challenged Link to shoot my earring off.”

“Is that what happened to it?” Nabooru cut in, sounding amused.

Ganondorf’s smile against her knee was short-lived. “The arrow drew blood. After that, it was difficult to keep a handle on my rage. I wanted to hurt Link--I wanted to hurt _the Hero._ I ended up breaking him down so much that he could only lie on the ground and cower. It took me a full night’s meditation to come back to myself.”

Unseen by Ganondorf, Nabooru pressed her lips together. “The Goddesses don’t play games,” she remarked in a heavy voice. “The fact that Link has held a grudge against them for so many years likely helped him to avoid his awakening. But it will come, Ganondorf. Something will make him see you as an enemy, and the rest will follow. Yet your mothers want to make him an ally over an enemy.” She paused, and her voice was hopeful when she added, “We can try to use this to our advantage.”

“How so?” Ganondorf asked. “It’s stepping on eggshells from here on out, with the curse so close to the surface.”

“But as long as it doesn’t break, we’re okay,” Nabooru reminded him. “We need to convince Link as gently as possible that he needs our help, and what that help will entail.”

“But,” Ganondorf put in.

“But,” Nabooru picked up, nodding, “there’s a chance it won’t work. So the curse breaks, but it’s to make Link an ally, right? At that point, we bring him close like we would an ally, and we use force to remove the curse when his guard’s dropped.”

“I don’t want the curse to break at all,” Ganondorf said with a sigh. “I can’t let my mothers win.”

“They won’t,” Nabooru insisted. “They can’t. So we’ll try the gentle way first. The two of you are friends, right? Just try to convince Link. If things go south, we’ll take it from there.”

Ganondorf had hoped Nabooru would have an easy answer, yet it looked like things remained the same. He still had the job of convincing Link to listen and allow the _tatau’s_ removal without feeding the curse. “Maybe he’ll be okay with it,” Ganondorf mused aloud. “Lady Impa’s right--he can always get it redone, and I won’t do anything stupid this time like applying blood magic.”

“Yes, that’s the other thing,” Nabooru spoke up. “There’s more than one root to that curse, and blood magic can only be dispelled by more blood magic.”

“You do your part, and let me worry about mine,” Ganondorf told her. 

“Yes, my lord,” Nabooru replied. Ganondorf turned a reproving eye up to her, and she smiled. “Come on, take my place. I want to go out riding with a scouting group before the sun gets too high, and you’ve been lacking in your kingly duties of late. Seeing to others’ needs will take your mind off your own for a while.”

“I saw to my needs in Clock Town,” Ganondorf teased. Nabooru smacked him lightly over the head before pushing him off of her knees. When she left the room, the Gerudo king settled into his throne and called back his visitors.

#

The staircase yawned at Link’s feet. He stood at the top of it with the toes of his boots half a foot away from the edge of the first stair. Cradled in his hands was the timeshift orb. His fingers traced its angular shape while he counted the number of stairs to the door at the bottom. 

_You’re not living any sort of life. You just sulk about. Get out, Link. Get_ out! 

_You’re just as adrift now as you were when I came across you in the gardens more than a decade ago._

_You seem to have a new life at your fingertips. You should think about grabbing hold of it._

Link closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He stood still with his chest expanded around the trapped air for well over five minutes. He released it slowly, and only when he had taken in a new breath did he crouch and drop the timeshift orb onto the edge of the staircase. A gentle nudge of his fingers sent it rolling over. Link straightened up and watched the orb bounce down the stairs, flashing on or off with every impact. It hit the bottom and lit up one last time. The circle of light beckoned with its showcase of revealed colors. 

Link took up his bow in his freed hands and pulled a bomb arrow from the second of the two quivers at his back. The fuse didn’t catch, and Link cursed before he reinserted the arrow to try again. It still didn’t light, and he glared at it as if the arrow was failing to catch on purpose. His eyes traced the short fuse and the missing piece of flint at the end of it. This was the arrow he had used to threaten the bandit two days ago. 

Link tossed it down the stairs; it could add fuel to the explosion. His second arrow lit, and he drew it back to aim down the staircase. His fingers hesitated too long, and the arrow exploded halfway to the door instead of beside it. Fire filled the staircase and raced up the short distance to the open air. Link staggered away with his arm up to protect his face from the rising flames. 

A deeper explosion sounded when the fire reached the bottom of the staircase. The ground shook, and Link fell to his rear. He could hear Epona whinnying some distance away where he had left her at the edge of the ruins. Closer by, the sound of collapsing stone coughed up through the flaming staircase. Dust and stone choked the last of the dissipating flames. With the fire gone, the staircase was left to smoke through the few holes in the wall of rubble that now filled its doorway.

Link stumbled when he pushed himself onto his feet. His limbs were shaking; why was that? He had wanted to do this. He had needed to do this. He couldn’t live tethered to the past, right? That was the point of everyone’s advice to him.

And yet as Link walked back to Epona, his boots catching on the rough ground, he thought on how nice it would be to swim in Lake Helvus again, or to lie against the grass of Silbarine. He reached Epona and staggered into her side when a stick tangled his feet. The mare grunted, but stood still, and Link was able to press his cheek against her shoulder and take in her smell. Epona was real; so was Kara, who was roosting on the mare’s head. And there were people in the present Hyrule who cared for him. He had to remember that. He had to…

Link dropped to the ground and leaned his back against Epona’s leg. “I don’t know how everyone else do it, Epona,” he murmured. Epona dropped her head down to him at the sound of her name. Kara chirped and took up a new perch on the mare’s firmer back. “Let’s get out of here,” Link said to his horse. He used her reins as ballast to help himself to his feet. He couldn’t put the ruins behind him fast enough. 

Kara drifted up on the breeze while Link rode along beneath her, heading in no particular direction. As always, his eyes wandered the horizon on the lookout for danger. Just yesterday, after returning from Clock Town, a trio of lizalfos had crossed his path. Lizalfos were intelligent monsters, and Link had used this to his advantage. He played up submission to them, and they passed him by after a few cursory sniffs at his bowed head. It was a change from engaging the dangerous monsters in battle; a change that had led Link into thinking on his attachment to his past. The Regn Hylian wasn’t close to cutting all ties to his grief, yet he felt he had taken the first step of many by getting rid of the timeshift orb. 

Link thought Impa would like to hear of such an accomplishment. He called her up on his blue stone. She was getting ready to join Zelda on the archery field. Link wasn’t the only one who had trained under Master Rusl; and while Zelda wasn’t as refined as him in skill, she was still formidable with a bow. She could draw an arrow almost as fast as him, and they were nearly equals in accuracy. Impa had not neglected Zelda’s training either, and the princess could wield a variety of blades as well as some magic as a result. Yet Zelda was a princess first and a soldier second. She had other responsibilities to focus on beyond splitting arrows and crossing swords.

 _“Bleufarwe, eower kardi minessproda,”_ Impa remarked when Link told her of the timeshift orb (carefully leaving out how the fire had almost scorched him). It was high Sheikan praise, and it abolished the last of Link’s unease over the task. “Where are you right now?” 

Link cast his eyes around. The eastern mountains weren’t far away, with Death Mountain rising the tallest amongst the range. Closer by was a peculiar formation of rock that had the appearance of a hand punching at the sky. “I’m near Darmani’s Fist.”

“Meet Princess Zelda and me there at around two for a late _melo,_ would you?” Impa asked. “We want to see you. We last parted on bad _verbus,_ if you’ll recall.” Link said nothing to that. “I’ll bring along some Kakariko spice for you if you say yes.”

Link groaned and dropped his head. Kakariko spice was his favorite seasoning, but hard to come by as its main ingredient was firesage--an herb that matured for only a week in the midst of autumn when the leaves were as red as flames. Such a lure, coupled with Link’s nomadic lifestyle that limited his choices in finer cuisine…

“Okay, okay,” Link agreed, and Impa laughed with satisfaction before cutting off her end of the connection.

Link made camp in the shadow of Darmani’s Fist. He left his horse and bird there and walked into a nearby field of long grass. He was hoping for a grouse, and he got one after a dozen yards’ walk. The brown bird fluttered up into the air with a startled cry, and Link put an arrow through its heart. He hurried to where the grouse fell before a fox or wildcat could snatch it up. The arrow was removed, cleaned against the grass, and put away. A prayer of thanks was mouthed for the bird’s spirit before Link took it back to his camp.

The grouse was stewing along with a mix of vegetables when Impa and Zelda rode up to the Fist. Upon dismounting from her mare, Impa stepped up to the fire and pulled a brown, paper packet of fair size from her pocket. Link accepted it with deep thanks and stirred a small amount of the Kakariko spice into the stew. He packed the rest away in his saddlebags with reverent care. 

“And I have something for you, Epona,” Zelda announced as she patted Epona’s nose. She pulled a half-dozen sugar cubes from her pocket. “But you have to say ‘please’.”

Epona recognized the vocal cue, and she lifted her head in response with a short whinny. Zelda giggled and fed her two of the sugar cubes. The rest were given to Link for later. “It’s good to see you again,” Zelda remarked as she passed the sugar cubes to Link. He looked away with warm cheeks, acutely aware of the fact that he hadn’t bathed properly that morning, and the scattered feathers Impa and Zelda were stirring up, and the dents in his cooking pot, and the…

 _Relax,_ a voice in Link’s mind cut in. He sighed and distracted himself with stirring the pot of stew. A quick taste told him it was done. Impa and Zelda settled around the fire with their own bowls, chatting about the easy ride to Darmani’s Fist. They had brought weapons with them--Zelda had her bow, and Impa, a broadsword--but they hadn’t needed them on the main road.

“Well, you just missed the pack of wolfos that I shared tea with,” Link spoke up. Zelda gave him a look that told him she half-believed him. He smiled as he took her bowl and spooned some stew into it. Impa’s bowl was next, followed by Link’s own (which needed to be replaced, he reminded himself when he saw a new crack in it). 

Link’s first spoonful of stew was smacked back into his bowl by Impa’s sharp hand. He shot her a glower that only darkened with annoyance when he saw her and Zelda’s open hands. Link put his bowl down and took up their hands in his own. He didn’t go as far as to bow his head or speak along with the prayer, but he maintained contact until his guests were finished. 

Kara fluttered down to Link’s folded knee not long into the meal. He placed a few spoonfuls of stew on the ground for her, and she hopped down to pick at the pieces of vegetable and meat. The horses were content with the grass, and a nearby spring provided fresh water. With Impa’s and Zelda’s conversation adding a comfortable note to the backdrop of birdsong, it was as close to paradise as Link could get in the midst of Hyrule Field, short of diving into the tranquil water of the Zora River. He should have known it wouldn’t last.

It started out as a low vibration in the ground that lifted the horses’ heads and put Link on alert. Impa saw him tense, and she cut off her side of the conversation. “What is it?” she asked. Her hand dropped to the hilt of the sheathed broadsword she had put aside. 

“A Goron,” Link replied after a few seconds’ contemplation. “A heavy one.” He cursed. “Elder Darunia. This can’t be good. He’s not the type to make social calls.”

Darunia had enough sense to stop his rolling short of the camp and cross the last of the distance on his feet so as to not frighten the horses. His mane had collected dirt along his journey; he shook it out before dropping to a knee in respect for Zelda and Impa. 

“At ease, please,” Zelda begged, and Darunia straightened up. “What has brought you here, Elder Darunia?”

Darunia nodded to Link; the Regn Hylian was already scraping his second bowl of soup back into the pot. “I saw his tunic from the mountain, my lady. Brother Link, my people and I could use your help.”

Impa arched her eyebrows. “You’re a Brother to them now, _Bleufarwe?”_

“Brother Link has helped my people time and time again,” Darunia answered for Link. “I think it’s only fitting now to address him as such.”

“Stop buttering me up and tell me what the problem is,” Link commanded with a voice tinged by irritation. 

Impa looked ready to rebuke Link for speaking to an Elder in such a way, but Darunia’s smile stopped her; the Gorons appreciated directness. “A king dodongo has lingered in the upper regions of Dodongo Cavern. We’ve been unable to herd it back down.”

“But isn’t that why they call it Dodongo Cavern, Elder Darunia?” Zelda asked, not to be witty but out of honest curiosity.

It was Link’s turn to answer for Darunia. He was belting on his weapons, but he paused to explain, “King dodongos stay in deep tunnels most of their lives because they prefer the dark, and they don’t need to eat as much at adult age. They come nearer to the surface for mating or food, but they don’t stay around for long. This one has?” Link asked Darunia this directly.

Darunia nodded. “Two weeks.” Link frowned. “My people and I have tried everything short of throwing bomb flowers into its gut. In respect for Hyrulean law, we don’t want to kill the creature unless absolutely necessary. But if it continues to threaten any Goron that enters the cave, we will soon have to make that choice. My people will suffer from a lack of nutrition if they can’t get the most nourishing rocks from Dodongo Cavern.”

Link called Epona to him with a whistle. “I have to see to this,” he said, apologetic, to Impa and Zelda as he saddled his mare. He would leave what he didn’t need behind at camp. With luck, the king dodongo problem wouldn’t take long. With the saddle secure, Link swung up into it. He was startled to find Zelda and Impa mirroring him. They had banked his fire and put away their bowls in favor of their weapons. 

“It’s been a while since I last saw the Blue Arrow in action,” Impa mused. “Not since you gained that newest name, I believe.”

“Plus, it sounds like more than a one-man job,” Zelda added. She smiled when Link turned his anxious face onto her. “Lead the way, Elder Darunia.”

#

Dodongo Cavern, situated a short distance above the foot of Death Mountain, flirted with the lava that fed from the volcano. Pools and streams of the lethal flow gave light to the many rooms and tunnels of the cavern. Yet the heat wasn’t the worst enemy. Along with the juvenile and adolescent dodongos, there were colonies of keese that lit their fur on fire in hopes of frightening away threats to their territories. Lizalfos and dinolfos were also known to enter the cavern to warm their cold blood by the lava, and there was an infestation of torch slugs. Coupled with these threats was the unsteady nature of the cavern itself.

Link never had a problem handling monsters or danger in front of a crowd, yet somehow it felt different to enter Dodongo Cavern with two of the closest people in his life at his heels. He found himself making every movement with care as if he was being judged on their execution. It slowed his progress through the cavern so much that Impa suggested that she should lead the way. Link shook his head at that; he knew the cavern as well as any Goron, he argued.

Zelda’s hand touched Link’s tense shoulder. He looked back at her to see her smile. “Just relax and show us the way,” she told him. After that, it was easier for Link to advance. He led his companions into one of the largest rooms in Dodongo Cavern, and he heard Zelda gasp in admiration. 

“It’s a king dodongo skeleton,” Link informed her, knowing what had brought on the reaction. The skull and forelegs of the long-dead monster stuck out of the far wall. Its empty eye sockets, gray with skulltula webbing, kept watch over the lava pits that pockmarked the room. “The Gorons have a legend that says every mountain in the eastern range was built upon the carcass of a king dodongo. See, the king dodongos build up crystals in their skin from living so deep underground, and the crystallization is what kills the monsters if they live long enough. It seeps into their skin and hardens their veins. The crystals continue to grow after their death.”

“And so, over time, the mountain builds up around the crystallized body,” Zelda guessed. 

“Right,” Link said, nodding and smiling. “Or so the Gorons claim. Anyway, Death Mountain is said to be based on the largest king dodongo to ever live. _That_ guy, to be precise.” He pointed to the skeleton.

“Myths aside,” Impa spoke up from behind Zelda, “we have a job to do in getting rid of a living king dodongo. Do you have a plan for that, _Bleufarwe?”_

Link could hear the worry in Impa’s voice. Was it more for herself, for her charge, or for him? He put on an air of bravado as he replied, “I’ll play it by ear.” Impa groaned at that while Zelda broke into laughter. It cut off into a scream when Link dropped out of sight with no warning. 

What Link thought was only a patch of gravel turned out to be a sinkhole. He sunk waist deep into the loose soil where he stopped and began to sink at a slower rate. “This is new!” he remarked in a high voice. The ground inched up towards his armpits. 

Zelda dropped to her knees beside the hole and stretched an arm out. “Take my hand!” she called. Impa had a hold of the back of her blouse. Both women’s faces were white with concern. Link reached out and clutched at Zelda’s hand. “I’m going to get you out,” Zelda told him as she began to pull with Impa anchoring her.

Link smiled. “I know.” The smile dropped when the ground shifted again, faster than before. Link’s hand was ripped out of Zelda’s grip when he was sucked down. The sinkhole fell apart around him, dropping into a deeper room below and taking large chunks of the ground with it. Impa pulled Zelda back to her feet and dragged the princess away to firmer ground. They reached it barely in time, and stood together while they watched the ground cave in with a dull roar. 

“Link…” Zelda pulled away from Impa and screamed, _“Link!”_ No answer came from the large hole in the ground. “We have to find him!”

“Yes, of course, but be careful.” Impa pulled Zelda short before she could fall through the loose ground. “Take it slow,” she instructed. Together, she and the princess climbed down the slope of fallen dirt and stone. It led them down into the new room, which was almost as wide as the one above. A large pool of lava took up most of the middle.

“There!” Zelda cried, and she pointed to a sudden tumble of loose rock. She and Impa slid and slipped down the slope to it. A pair of gauntleted hands wormed their way out of the rock, and the women took up one each to pull Link free of the rubble. The Regn Hylian sucked in a harsh breath once his head was clear, and he fell to coughing the dust out of his lungs. Impa laid him flat against the slope and checked him over for visible injuries. He was whole save for a few scratches, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks,” Link said as he sat up. He shook dirt from his mussed hair. “I thought I was a goner there.” His gratitude dried up when his bow dropped away from his chest, shattered in half at the grip. “No… No, no, _no--”_

“Be lucky that isn’t your neck!” Impa snapped at him before he could fall into hysterics. Link trailed shaking fingers over his weapon’s useless limbs and limp bowstring. “Once we take care of the king dodongo, we can get you a new bow. Come on, Link, get up.”

Zelda offered an arm as support, and Link accepted it. His face was pale in the wake of his near-death and his bow’s demise. It whitened further when he put weight onto his left foot. The leg caved under him, and he dropped back against the slope with a cry of pain. 

Zelda moved aside to give Impa room to inspect Link again, closer this time. Her fingers roved up and down his leg, feeling for breaks. Link grimaced when her hands reached his ankle. “There,” he told her. Impa turned the ankle, and Link couldn’t help but scream. He cut it off quickly with a bite of his lip. Sweat broke out on his forehead while the Sheikah woman’s fingers prodded through his boot. 

“It’s broken,” Impa pronounced. Link dropped his head to the slope with a groan and a stream of curses. “Let’s get you out of here, Link. We can come back once you’re healed.”

“It’s too late for that,” Zelda whispered. Impa looked to her and found the princess staring at the far side of the room. Only then did Impa hear the sound of heavy breathing under Link’s own. She followed Zelda’s line of sight, and her gaze fell upon a large, blue-gray reptilian head adorned with dark blue crystal spines. It was in the shadow of a large opening. A pale blue tongue flicked out to taste the air.

“There he is,” Link murmured with a low, hollow chuckle. “Looks like the crystallization has reached parts of his brain. So that’s why he’s been acting funny. He must be very old.”

The king dodongo stepped into the better light of the room, revealing his full size. He had ten feet on the queen dodongo Link had seen days ago. More crystal spines adorned his back, tail, and joints; most of them were as long as Link was tall. The monster’s large head swayed from side to side as he took in the scent of the two Hylians and one Sheikah. His lips parted, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth. The tail lashed at the wall and left craters in the rock. 

“Zelda,” Impa called in a whisper, and Zelda looked to her. “Let’s get Link up the slope. I doubt the monster can climb this without sinking into it. If we move slow and quietly--”

“He’ll just follow me some other way,” Link pointed out.

“Shut up, Link,” Zelda snapped.

The king dodongo snorted and lifted his head. After a moment’s contemplation, he turned and began to move around the edge of the lava pool. 

Impa straightened up and slid down to the base of the slope; Zelda followed her. Link stared at their backs in rising alarm. “What are you doing?” he cried.

“We have to fight,” Impa told him. “There’s no other way now.” Her words were jolted by the king dodongo’s heavy footfalls. 

“Yes there is! Just get out of here! You can move faster without me!”

Zelda turned her head back over her shoulder. “You expect me to leave my best friend behind to be eaten?” She turned forward and drew an arrow from the quiver hanging from her shoulder. Impa had her broadsword in hand. A Sheikan knot hung from the blade’s crossguard; it was supposed to bring luck in battle. Link hoped it would be enough. 

The king dodongo roared when he saw the flash of his opponents’ weapons. His pace quickened, but already Zelda and Impa were moving past him, leading him away from where Link sat incapacitated. The king dodongo turned in place, and his tail swung over the Regn Hylian’s head with inches to spare; the breeze ruffled Link’s bangs. 

The king dodongo’s head struck out towards Zelda. She rolled to the side, and the monster’s teeth snapped shut a few inches away from her. She shifted away further, back to Impa’s side. The Sheikah woman deterred the next bite with a slash of her broadsword. It drew a black line across the king dodongo’s snout, and the monster roared. 

“Split up! Divide its attention!” Impa called to Zelda over the roar. The princess nodded and shot off to her left. Impa moved further right and slashed once more, drawing a second line across the monster’s foreleg. The king dodongo’s hide was tough; it was going to take more than a few slashes to bring the monster down.

The king dodongo turned to his right, towards Zelda. Link saw the monster’s chest expand as a reddish-orange glow bloomed beneath the paler skin of its chest. “Zelda, move!” Link shouted. The hiss of the king dodongo’s in-taken breath nearly drowned the words out. Zelda rolled forward instead of to the left or right, and the monster’s fiery breath passed over her. It struck the wall of the room in a roaring spray of flames that left the rock soft and black with heat.

Zelda ran between the king dodongo’s right legs, took up a stance by its foreleg, and aimed an arrow. The monster’s large eye made an easy target. The princess’s arrow sunk deep into it, blinding it. The king dodongo roared in rage and whipped his head around. His stomping feet missed Zelda by inches, and she had to duck beneath the swinging tail. After straightening up, she ran up the slope to Link and took up a protective stance by him. The monster’s thrashing was bringing him closer to the Regn Hylian.

“Get out of here!” Link once more insisted. Zelda ignored him. 

Impa was still busy on the king dodongo’s left side. Her grunts and singing blade clashed with the monster’s roars and stomps. The snap of teeth was soon added to the mix. The king dodongo’s good eye was on Impa’s side, and his focus had shifted to her. Zelda saw this, gasped, and rushed to give Impa her support. Her next arrow went for the king dodongo’s remaining eye, but a shift in his movement sent the arrow bouncing off a crystal spine, broken. 

Link reached over his shoulder and unsheathed his sword. He used the blade as support to gain his feet--or foot, rather, as his broken ankle refused to take any weight without radiating pain. With his free hand, Link pulled a bomb arrow from one of his two quivers. The fuse hissed and crackled in his ear when he cocked his arm back and took aim. He watched Impa and Zelda dodge the king dodongo’s bites and claws while he ticked away the seconds in his head.

The king dodongo paused in his attacks to take in another deep breath. The hissing inhale was broken off by an explosion that struck the side of his head. The monster roared and staggered two steps to his right. Impa and Zelda backed away, both wary and puzzled. Impa was the one who looked to Link first. She saw him standing with his braced sword as support. A second bomb arrow crackled in his free hand. 

“Get down!” Impa shouted at him. It was Link’s turn to ignore advice. Zelda was already moving around to the king dodongo’s left side. Her arrows flew at his good eye and the softer skin of his throat. The second bomb arrow deterred the king dodongo long enough for Impa to shave off the last five feet of his tail with a slice of her broadsword. The tail dropped and rolled across the ground to the edge of the lava pool, where it sunk below the boiling surface with a wet burp. Black blood sprayed from the cut tail, but not as much as Impa had expected; the crystallizing spines had killed much of the appendage. The king dodongo didn’t appear to notice the cut at all, and his head swung at Zelda, forcing her to dodge, before he whipped his teeth back around for Link. 

Link sacrificed better stability in order to raise his sword. The blade bit into the king dodongo’s snout three times while the Regn Hylian warded off bites with his shield. He overbalanced with the third swing and dropped against the slope. The king dodongo’s mouth closed around him. 

Zelda screamed Link’s name, and she launched the last of her arrows at the king dodongo’s throat. Impa stood still in shock and watched Link’s blade slice up through the top of the monster’s mouth several times. A deep swallow stopped the efforts for good. The king dodongo spun around and roared. Black blood sprayed from his mouth, and Link’s sword dropped out of the open jaws. 

Before Impa could think of a way to retaliate, Zelda threw aside her bow. With her arrows depleted, she took up Link’s sword in their place. Screaming Link’s name, she ran at the king dodongo’s right foreleg and slashed over and over at its hide. The blade bit deeper with each swing, and it wasn’t long before the leg was a mess of black slashes. The shredded muscles and tendons soon gave out, and the king dodongo’s leg caved. The monster dropped, and his chin knocked the ground with a pained roar. Impa joined Zelda in slashing at the king dodongo’s throat and head before a snap of his jaws scattered them. 

“Give him back!” Zelda shouted at the monster, tears in her eyes. The king dodongo gained his remaining good feet and roared back at her. His chest began to expand with a deep inhale, and the reddish-orange light bloomed in his chest. Impa grabbed the back of Zelda’s blouse with the intention of dragging her out of range. The act proved unnecessary, as something within the king dodongo ruptured with a dull boom of sound. The monster screamed and roared while he thrashed on his feet. His in-taken breath escaped his mouth as black smoke and sputters of weak flame.

Impa gasped in surprise. “Link is still alive!” she cried. “Zelda, let’s go!” She advanced with her blade at the ready. Zelda followed her.

If Link had heard Impa, he would have added, _Not for long._ The bomb arrow he had tossed behind him in the midst of the king dodongo’s stomach had eaten up the rest of the air within the organ. He was now on borrowed time, and the acidic conditions, coupled with the heat of the king dodongo’s body, was doing his breath-holding skills no favors. Beyond the flexing walls of the stomach, Link could see the glow of the monster’s fire bladder. He considered cutting through to rupture it, but he thought better. If the resulting explosion didn’t kill him right away, it would in short time when the flames began to consume the king dodongo.

Link searched his mind for the anatomical monster diagrams he had studied under Rusl. There was a whole book full of them, and he had memorized it all. He tried to map out the shortest route through the king dodongo’s body, but the acid eating at his skin shattered his focus. His burning red hand groped for his short blade. It was the only weapon left to him that was of any use inside the king dodongo. He turned away from the glow of the fire bladder, leaned against the wall of the stomach, and slashed repeatedly at it. A slit slowly grew in the wall while the acid continued to eat into Link’s clothes and skin.

The king dodongo had to deal with both interior and exterior assault, and he was losing the fight. Impa’s broadsword had opened up a vital vein in his throat, and Zelda was working on deteriorating his right rear leg. Her plan was to bring the monster down onto his weak side, and the strategy worked. When the right leg caved, the king dodongo vomited blood and bile before collapsing to the right with a weak roar. 

Link was tossed within the king dodongo’s stomach when the monster dropped. His broken ankle folded beneath his staggering weight, and he fell into the stomach acid with a scream that used up the rest of his stored breath. Link gasped for air that wasn’t there, and felt fire race down his throat to coat his lungs. When his head broke the surface of the acid, the air was no better. He sucked in hoarse gasps that offered no relief for his burning lungs, and soon a red fog of pain overtook his mind, sinking it into darkness.

Zelda sunk Link’s blade deep into the king dodongo’s chest. She felt the monster’s heart shudder through a final beat around the sword before the last of the tension left the downed body. Blood pooled around her and Impa’s feet. More of it stained the women’s clothes. Zelda pulled the sword out of the king dodongo and approached his stomach.

“No, wait!” Impa cried. Zelda lowered the sword and turned to her with an impatient look. “You could rupture the fire bladder, or hurt Link himself,” the Sheikah woman reminded her. Zelda nodded and took a step back. Impa moved forward and felt along the monster’s towering side. “Here!” she called to Zelda, indicating a spot with her hand.

The princess drove the sword into the king dodongo and, with Impa’s help, sliced through the thick hide to create a large slit. Zelda didn’t wait for a new prompt. She dove headfirst into the slit after sucking in a breath; she disappeared down to the waist. A half-minute later, she reemerged with a gasp. Her arms remained within the monster’s body. “I have him!”

Impa reached in and felt for Link. Her hands fell around his ponytail, and she tugged on it while Zelda pulled on a shoulder. Together, they dragged Link out of the monster and laid him flat against the ground. Zelda was drenched in monster blood and other fluids; the grime weighed down her blouse and hair. She pushed this latter away from her face before bowing down to lay her ear to Link’s nose and mouth. Her eyes flickered with alarm. “He’s not breathing, Impa!”

Impa pushed Zelda aside. She attempted a Sheikan spell first, similar to what Ganondorf had once used on Link. When that failed to work, she began to pump his chest with her hands. Zelda pinched Link’s nose shut and breathed into his mouth when she was prompted. Between breaths, she studied Link’s reddened skin, and acid-eaten hair and clothes. Tears grew in her eyes and carved clean paths down her dirty cheeks. The tenth time that Impa prompted her to breathe for Link, the princess shook her head. 

“Keep trying!” Impa implored. Zelda covered her face with her stained hands. Impa’s dark face paled before anger flushed it. She slapped Link’s still face. “Wake up!” she screamed. She slapped him again, and again, cursing him in both Hylian and Sheikan, and calling out old nicknames and new with increasing distress.

Link heard the calls from a far distance, and woke up. He opened his eyes to find himself lying on his side. He felt weak, but the grass beneath his body was as soft as down, and it soothed him. He looked up while someone continued to call his name from miles away. He had to blink to clear his eyes, because surely what he was seeing wasn’t real. 

Yet Aryll’s face persisted. She smiled down at Link, and crouched to put a hand to his cheek. There were two others standing behind her. Their hands found him too, reassuring him with their touch to his hair and shoulder; a touch he hadn’t felt since he was a child. And even more people waited beyond the strange light of this place; waited to welcome him amongst them again.

A light flashed. It was red, and almost angry in its intensity. Link winced when it struck his eyes. Aryll’s face blurred, and the hands on him fell away. More lights flashed--blue and green, and red again. The faces and touches were falling away. Link struggled to right himself; to go with them, even as a pair of strong arms lifted him from the ground.

“No!” Link cried. He groped and clutched at the grass. He kicked his legs. But nothing stopped the arms from lifting him. Link reached for his family as he was turned away. The lights flashed, and he was forced to close his eyes. He found more strength to struggle in the arms that held him while he cursed and screamed at the lights that he knew to be the Goddesses. _“I hate you!”_ he shouted a final time before a hand fell over his mouth.

“Hush, Link,” Rusl chided. He was carrying Link towards a harsh white light as if the Regn Hylian weighed nothing. “It’s not time for you to join us yet. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

Link broke free of the hand. “No! _No!”_ Yet no amount of screaming or pleading swayed Rusl’s mind, and Link was carried into the harsh light. He opened his eyes when he felt Rusl lay him down. A dark dome of stone arched over him. Water spilled out of several springs in the stone wall to feed into a pool of pale pink water. Link lay in the shallows of the pool, bare but whole. He sat up and raised his healed hands to study the new skin. His ankle rotated without any pain. His damaged hair had grown back; it hung loose around his neck. Link drew his knees up, folded his arms atop them, and dropped his head. 

His sobs woke up Zelda, who was asleep on the dry shore of the fairy fountain. She draped a blanket over Link, and he raised his head with a startled gasp. “It’s okay!” Zelda assured him. She crouched down beside him in the pool. Her hair and skin were cleaned of grime, but her clothes were still dark with it. “It’s just me, Link. You’re okay. You’re alive.” 

The words stung. Link hunched his shoulders and turned his face down. Zelda’s relieved smile stopped him from cursing his luck, but only just. Anger twitched beneath his healed skin. 

“Impa and I tried so hard to bring you back to us,” Zelda continued, either unaware of Link’s anger or deliberately oblivious. “I gave up on you,” she added in a voice that was heavy with sorrow. Oddly, Link’s anger at her abated some for the admittance. “You hadn’t taken a breath in almost ten minutes. But Impa wouldn’t give up. She started slapping you, and screaming, and pumping your chest some more. Then she tried her Sheikan spell again…” Zelda smiled thinly. “And you coughed. We brought you here as fast as we could. You’ve been soaking in the water for about three hours now.” 

“Where is Impa?” Link asked in an even voice.

“She’s speaking to Elder Darunia. I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed this.” Zelda indicated the blanket around Link’s body. “I also brought you some clothes from your camp. Yours were ruined by the stomach acid. You’re going to need new boots, though. But look, we were able to salvage those.” Zelda gestured to the shore of the pool where Link’s sword, short blade, and half-empty quiver were piled beside his boots. The leather had held up better than Link’s skin, but not by much. “The shield and bomb arrow quiver are probably still in the king dodongo, and we left your bow behind, seeing how it was broken.”

Zelda said the words so casually that Link had a sudden, terrible impulse to slap her. His bow was his livelihood. Now he would have to gather spoils without its advantage of distant attack until he could trade in enough to earn the rupees to buy a new one. Given his popularity within Hyrule, that was likely going to take a month or more. Before that, he would need to buy new boots and break them in; that meant a week’s worth of blisters. Link scowled and buried his fingernails into his palms. If Impa hadn’t insisted on the late lunch at Darmani’s Fist, Darunia would never have seen Link, and the king dodongo incident would have never happened…

Link turned his head towards the sound of footsteps echoing through the fairy fountain chamber. Impa walked into view out of the gloom. She smiled when she saw Link was awake and healed. He turned forward without returning the expression. 

Impa sighed. “I see your dourness has returned along with your good health.”

“I would have preferred to stay dead,” Link replied. 

A tense silence followed the statement. Impa broke it with a nervous chuckle. _“Bleufarwe,_ don’t say things like that. Can you imagine how Zelda and I would feel if you left us so soon? You’re _famuli_ to us, Link.”

“My _real_ family was in the Sacred Realm!” Link snapped back at her, nearly screaming the words. “I saw them!” He wiped tears away from his cheeks with an angry hand. “They wanted me to stay, but those damn Goddesses sent me back!”

“Link, watch your tongue,” Impa warned. 

The Sheikah woman’s voice was no longer light, and it angered Link further. He spun in place to face her with all his ire. He saw Zelda instead; she pushed him down below the surface of the pool. The princess held Link down for ten seconds while he flailed and kicked below the water, struggling against both her and the blanket clinging to him. When Zelda released Link, he rose up sputtering and coughing. The flush of anger was gone from his cheeks for the moment. He fixed a sullen look onto Zelda. “What was that for?”

“To calm you down,” Zelda replied. “Impa and I are just trying to help--”

“I don’t need your help!” Link snapped.

Zelda narrowed her eyes and readied a sharp retort. She was stopped by Impa. “That’s enough,” the Sheikah woman cut in. Zelda got out of the pool and wrung water from her hair and clothes. “All right, Link,” Impa continued. “We’ll leave you for now. Clearly you can take care of yourself and handle things alone.” 

Impa’s words had a stiff edge to them that Link picked up. “You don’t believe that.”

Impa helped Zelda to wring the worst of the water from her clothes. She used the time for the act to collect her anger and store it away where Link couldn’t see it. “Of course I do,” she said after straightening up. Her tone and face were easy despite the black stain she could see on the water’s surface behind Link. “I always believe in you, _Bleufarwe,_ even when I’m the most concerned. Come along, Princess Zelda. We need to get going back to the castle anyway.”

“Goodbye, Link,” Zelda said in parting. She followed Impa out of the fairy fountain in silence. The women came out near the top of Death Mountain. A narrow path led the way down the volcano’s steep side. They stopped at the head of it and together looked back at the entrance to the fairy fountain. “I thought you would tear into him,” Zelda spoke up in a low voice.

“I wanted to, but I couldn’t,” Impa replied. She turned a troubled look to the princess. “There’s something you need to know.”

##########

**Translations:**

**All of the following are Sheikan.**

_“…eower kardi minessproda,”:_ “…you are the light of my heart.” As stated in-text, this is high Sheikan praise, reserved for immediate family members and close lovers. 

_melo:_ This literally means “meal”. However, it’s usually translated into Hylian as “breakfast”, “lunch”, or “dinner” depending on the time of day it refers to. (In this chapter’s case, “lunch”.)

 _verbus:_ word or words; also can be translated as “terms”.

 _famuli:_ family


	18. Breaking the Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link goes to The Fortress, where he is treated by Ganondorf, and shows signs of further regression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the word “katana” technically has no place in any Hyrulean vocabulary, the word isn’t used in this chapter. But it should be assumed that Ganondorf uses similar blades in this chapter to what he uses in _Wind Waker._
> 
> Gerudian is spoken in this chapter a few times. As always, translations are provided at the end, and/or in context.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you!

# -Blue Arrow-

### Breaking the Surface

_The stone walls of Ganondorf’s chamber vibrated with the roar that left his lips. Once more he attempted to gain his feet, and once more he dropped back down to his hands and knees. Flames of darkness flickered across his back and limbs. His fingers clenched into the thick fur spread on the floor, and he laughed between screams._

_The door opened. “Ganondorf, how was the--” Nabooru’s question cut off into brief, troubled silence. “…Ganondorf?”_

_“I underestimated that boy,” Ganondorf said in a voice that wasn’t his. And yet, there were hints of his voice within it. “No…” The Gerudo king shook his head. “It was not the boy I underestimated. It was the Triforce of Courage.”_

_“’The Triforce of Courage’?” Nabooru repeated._

_“The power of the gods… The Triforce!” Ganondorf’s eyes lit up with manic glee when he looked up at Nabooru. “He who touches it will have whatever he desires granted!” The glee faded, and Ganondorf dropped his head with a sob._

_Nabooru moved forward to give Ganondorf her arm. He was trying to rise, but his shaking limbs were hindering him. There was hesitation in her movements when she took up one of the darkness-imbued arms in order to give Ganondorf the support he needed. A strange look was in his eyes. His focus flickered between here and there, or sometimes to an unseen point. The occasional tear fell down his cheek._

_“Let’s get you to bed,” Nabooru decided. “Whatever ceremony your mo--” Nabooru’s words were once more cut off, this time by a choked scream when Ganondorf seized her neck. He pushed her against one of the tall posts of his bed, and the carved wood dug into her back, making her wince._

_“Pathetic little fool!” Ganondorf nearly screamed at her. His fingers held her breaths fast. “Do you realize who you’re dealing with? I am Ganondorf, and soon I will rule the world!”_

_Nabooru’s hand found the small dagger on her belt. She lashed out with it, and the blade caught Ganondorf’s forearm. He released her with a snarl. With Ganondorf distracted, Nabooru rushed into the next room where two scimitars hung on the wall. She pulled one of them down and turned to face the Gerudo king with the blade raised towards him._

_Ganondorf staggered out of the bedroom with a crooked smile on his face. “An impressive looking blade… but nothing more.” He laughed through a face contorted with internal pain._

_“Ganondorf, what is wrong with you?” Nabooru asked him. Her voice shook around the question. “You were fine this morning. What did your mothers do to you?”_

_Ganondorf advanced on unsteady feet. “You cannot defeat me with a blade that does not sparkle with the power to repel evil.” He stumbled, and dropped to his hands and knees. The darkness on his body flickered with varying intensity. “What you hold is useless!” Ganondorf bellowed at the floor. “Go back to the world below, and tell that to the pathetic fools who made this blade! Its power is gone, and its edges are dull!” He raised his hands to his hair, clenched at it, and screamed._

_Nabooru put aside the scimitar and approached Ganondorf once more. She dropped to her knees in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Ganondorf, please talk to me. I’m here for you.”_

_Ganondorf’s breathing had taken a harsh turn. His entire body heaved with each breath. His right hand found Nabooru’s folded knee and squeezed it. The same hand next drove her down against the floor. Her skull smacked against the hard floor, and she grimaced while Ganondorf laughed._

_“It’s been a while, boy.” Ganondorf said. He braced his knees to either side of Nabooru’s hips, pinning her. “You have done well to sneak into my fortress and wiggle your way all the way up here. I suppose the least I can do is commend you for your reckless courage.”_

_“I’m not a boy!” Nabooru snapped. “Who are you? You’re not Ganondorf!”_

_Nabooru was ignored. “Do not think that this ends here,” Ganondorf continued. “The history of light and shadow will be written in blood.” He grimaced, baring his teeth, and shook his head._

_“Blood…” Nabooru’s eyes widened. “Ganondorf, your ancestors… Did your mothers…?”_

_Ganondorf’s hand fell almost lovingly around Nabooru’s throat, and her questions were stopped by his squeezing fingers. “The only question left is how long you will remain standing before I take your life. Try to keep it interesting for me, would you?”_

_Nabooru replied with a hard knee driven up between Ganondorf’s legs. Whatever thoughts had taken over him, they couldn’t face his human pain. The dark flames flickered and died as Ganondorf rolled away with an agonized cry. Nabooru sat up and coughed through her sore throat. Ganondorf groaned and whimpered beside her. His voice was back to normal, and when he looked up to her in hurt confusion, his eyes were focused and true._

_“Your mothers… They woke something up in you, didn’t they?” Nabooru asked. Ganondorf closed his eyes and curled up further._

“They certainly did,” Ganondorf murmured to himself as he studied the canopy of his bed. The morning light had reached his bedroom through the window. Outside it, The Fortress was already awake. The familiar sounds and smells of the distant city center helped Ganondorf to ground himself after his walk through old memories. Reflecting on the past was always dangerous for him. He never knew when a foreign memory would butt in and alter his thinking. 

Nabooru had helped Ganondorf with his stirred mind, but it still had taken him years to get a handle on his bouts of rage, and to bury most of the memories of his ancestors. They could still be triggered, however the frequency was far less than it was seven years ago, even when Ganondorf crossed paths with Link. Yet there were times when he found himself smelling a fishless ocean; or hearing the clop of a fleeing horse; or--most often--staring into the fierce blue eyes of a young Hero.

Ganondorf’s fingers were tracing the bare curve of Nabooru’s shoulder. He looked down the bed at her, taking in her spread hair and the line of her curled body. Her nose was compressed slightly by his chest, and her breaths came out as soft wheezes. Ganondorf’s eyes slipped across her to the pale scar that stood out against the dark skin of his forearm. He could remember Nabooru sewing the wound closed, as it wasn’t serious enough to warrant the half-day-long trek to the closest fairy fountain. She had bit off the last few inches of the black thread before dropping a gentle kiss to the stitches. 

A distant tug pulled Ganondorf out of his memories. He blinked and turned his head towards the window. Some change in his body alerted Nabooru, and she woke up with a sleepy question. “It’s Link,” Ganondorf explained after Nabooru had sat up. She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “He’s just entered The Fortress.”

“Is everything all right?” Nabooru asked with a frown. “When was the last time you looked in on him?”

“Two days ago,” Ganondorf replied. “But he was with Lady Impa and Princess Zelda. I thought he would be fine with them beside him.”

“He probably still is,” Nabooru reassured him. “Maybe he just wanted to visit. I bet he’s on his way here.”

Ganondorf wanted to believe her, but something about the tug that he had felt suggested differently. He couldn’t explain it to Nabooru. She would understand, but it was the act of putting the feeling into words that would be hardest. “I don’t think so,” was all Ganondorf said. “I’ll go meet him--alone,” he added, knowing Nabooru would want to tag along. “I don’t want to spook him. If he thinks you and I are up to something, he’ll be less willing to listen to us. He’ll expect to see only me. He might even welcome it.”

“Don’t let him out of your sight for long if you can help it,” Nabooru warned as Ganondorf rolled out of the bed. He shot a look of question at her, and she added, “Your mothers are strongest here.”

Ganondorf’s eyes darkened. “So am I.”

“But when you’re around Link, your defenses are lower,” Nabooru pointed out to him. “Just be careful.”

Ganondorf smiled; the expression was clearly forced. “I’ll be fine. Don’t my mothers realize who they’re dealing with? I am Ganondorf.” Nabooru didn’t appreciate the joke, and her glare wilted Ganondorf’s mirth. “I’ll be fine,” he repeated. “I just have to remember who I am.”

“But that’s part of the problem,” Nabooru whispered, unheard, as Ganondorf left for the baths.

#

Ganondorf followed the tug on his body--on his very blood--to the main market square within the depths of The Fortress. His eyes roved the crowd around him as he looked for a splash of blue against the desert-dusted travelers and residents. He simultaneously moved in whatever direction he felt the tug was strongest. Both senses guided him to a stall that was well-known for its fireworks. Link was there, trading half a dozen vials of purified forest water for a bag of Gerudian black powder. The Hylian nearly dropped the bag when Ganondorf sidled up beside him in silence. 

“What’re you doing here?” Ganondorf asked. 

“Hello to you too,” Link returned in a stiff tone. There were shadows under his bloodshot eyes, and only his short blade and a depleted quiver were on his person. His boots were in terrible shape, and his pained stance suggested they no longer fit as well as they once did. The tie holding his hair back was a hasty length of hemp, and his belts were worn thin.

Ganondorf eased his shoulders against one of the stall’s beams. The merchant was busy with attending to a new customer. “No Epona today?” he asked in hopes of sparking light conversation.

“She’s grazing,” Link explained. “And lately she’s too fond of your stud of a stallion. The last thing I need is a pregnant mare to add to the list of troubles.”

“Troubles?” Ganondorf repeated. Link turned and crouched to store away the bag of black powder in a rucksack by his feet. Ganondorf’s eyes went to the black stain that encompassed almost the entirety of the tunic’s back and most of the sleeves of the undershirt. He also noted the lack of a bow. “Why are you walking around The Fortress so poorly armed if you’re not with me?”

Link’s back tensed. “My bow was broken, and most of my arrows ruined.” Anger put a bite in every word. He straightened up with clenched fists. “I was lucky enough to salvage my shield and bomb arrow quiver, but now I have to waste time with buying new materials to make arrows, and gathering things to trade for a new bow, and I’ll have to do it all here because I won’t get good prices in Castle Town…” Link trailed off to close his eyes and take several deep breaths.

Ganondorf picked up Link’s rucksack in one hand and put his free arm around the Hylian’s waist, turning him towards the next stall. “Tell me all about it,” he encouraged after dropping his arm away, abolishing the stain as he did. His hand went to his pocket for a moment afterwards.

Between stops at different stalls, Link relayed the details of the king dodongo run-in. Whenever he made to trade for something he needed, Ganondorf stepped in to flash a piece of brown paper marked with Gerudian script. Every merchant smiled and waved off Link’s payment in return. Ganondorf could see the desire to decline the help in Link’s face, but he never gave the Hylian an opportunity to voice his stubborn refusals.

Not long after the end of his tale, Link stopped in front of a stall where bows hung from the awning. Ganondorf led him away, however, and guided him down a back alley that lay in cool shadows. It ended in another open-air market smaller than the main square, but just as tightly packed. Link remembered the area from his months-long stay in The Fortress, but the price of the goods here were always out of his reach.

“Some of this stuff is no better than what you can get in the other markets,” Ganondorf explained while he and Link walked. “However, it does have some quality things. Merona!” The Gerudo king waved at a Hylian woman who was sitting in the shade of a tannery’s awning. She smiled and waved back, and Ganondorf led the way to her. 

The rich smell of fine leather lifted Link’s mood. He walked into the midst of the sprawling tannery and studied the goods under a flapping tarp roof that kept off the sun’s heat. A dark-skinned, northern-Hylian man appeared from behind a rack of belts. His name was Thompson, Link learned, and he was Merona’s husband. He sized Link’s feet and helped the Regn Hylian in picking out a new pair of boots. The ones Link decided upon fit with such perfection that he couldn’t help but smile. They were lightweight as well, and sturdy. He didn’t think he was going to mind breaking them in.

Link’s equipment belts and waist pouches were also replaced, as the king dodongo’s stomach acid had weakened them as well. Ganondorf took care of this part while Link walked around in his new boots to get a feel for them. It was while the Gerudo king was transferring a handful of Sheikan smoke bombs from one pouch to another did he notice a missing element. “Link, where are those souvenirs of yours?”

Link’s smile dropped. His hand first went to his wrist before searching his neck. His face paled when he recalled he had worn his necklaces and bracelet into battle against the king dodongo. The acid had likely eaten through the strings. How had he not noticed? He sucked in a harsh breath.

“Excuse us for a minute, would you?” Ganondorf asked Merona and Thompson. They nodded with murmured deference and left the tannery. Panic had come to Link’s eyes, and his hand was shaking against his chest where the shell and arrowhead had once hung. “Easy now,” Ganondorf soothed. Link’s wide eyes looked up at him. “I’ll get them back for you.”

“You can’t,” Link whispered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You can’t. After all of the useful things were removed from the carcass, the king dodongo was pushed into the lava. I know--I helped the Gorons in doing it. They’re gone. They’re gone, and now I--I--”

“You’ve been feeling lost these past few days, huh?” Ganondorf guessed. Link nodded. “Getting your gifts back will help.”

“But--”

“I am Ganondorf,” the Gerudo king cut in. “I get what I want.” He rolled up his right sleeve and flexed his fingers. He would need to use time magic. That was tricky enough alone, but in the presence of a young man whose blood tied into an agent of time and all of Hyrulean history itself… 

Ganondorf steeled his mind as bluish-white energy coated his hand and forearm. Link’s eyes widened further, and he yelped in surprise when Ganondorf thrust his arm into the air. The arm disappeared up to the elbow as if sinking into an invisible wall. Ganondorf braced his other hand against thin air while pushing his arm deeper into the time slit he had opened. He cast his mind into the slit as well in search of a point where he could take what he wanted.

Link stepped closer, no longer panicked but fascinated. He came to within three feet of Ganondorf, and the Gerudo king snapped out, “Back up!” The slit in time had started to vibrate in reaction to the Hylian’s blood. Link backed away to the tannery’s counter, and the slit stabilized. Yet it had dragged memories to the forefront of Ganondorf’s mind: a white-stoned temple; a castle below a sea; a stormy landscape. 

“Can you bring my bow back too?” Link asked in sudden inspiration.

Ganondorf grimaced when the time magic slipped. “Little fish, I’m having enough trouble over a few pieces of jewelry. I’ll buy you a new bow instead.” He refocused on his search, and his fingers soon snagged on three loops. “Ha! Got you.”

Ganondorf’s arm was withdrawn in a spray of white light. He closed the slit up at once and shook the last of the time magic out of his arm. Dangling from his clenched fist were two necklaces and a leather bracelet adorned with bells. “I’m good, I know,” he boasted with a smile when he handed the items to Link. 

Link accepted the jewelry with shaking hands. “I’ve never seen anything like that,” he said with wide eyes. He put the bracelet in his mouth to leave his hands free to tie on the necklaces. “Howb ju do dat?”

Ganondorf took the bracelet out of Link’s mouth. “Practice,” he replied. He took hold of the Hylian’s arm once the necklaces were tied, and he tied the bracelet snug around Link’s wrist. “Try on your new belts while I settle up payment with Merona and Thompson. And don’t forget to thank them before we leave.”

There were no more hints of discomfort in Link’s gait when he and Ganondorf returned to the market square, although he stumbled a little for the first few minutes until he grew accustomed to how the boots hugged his feet. A traveling merchant stopped him at one point to offer honey-flavored hard candies. After a quick glance at Ganondorf, who nodded, Link passed over one of the few green rupees left to his name for a bag of the candies. The man thanked him and walked on to continue hawking his goods. 

Ganondorf refused Link’s offer of a piece, and it was sucked into the Hylian’s mouth instead. They were long-lasting candies; Link was only a quarter of the way through his first piece when Ganondorf stopped him in front of an armory shop. He swallowed the rest of the candy with a hard gulp when he saw the fine swords on display.

A heavily _tataued_ man ran the armory while his teenage daughter supervised the till. They both greeted their customers when Link and Ganondorf walked into the shop, which was built into a proper building unlike most of the other stalls. The daughter was named Irene, and her father was Josef. There was also a cat sitting on the counter; her name was Soot on account of her grey fur.

“You’re that Blue Arrow fellow, aren’t you?” Irene asked, eyes glittering, when Link approached the counter. Link sighed but nodded, and he dropped a hand to the cat’s head. “Soot’s very friendly,” Irene assured Link while behind him, Ganondorf passed words with Josef; the men appeared to be good friends. Soot arched her back with her tail high when Link scratched her head. “Do you have any pets?”

Link nodded again, thinking on Epona and Kara; although he considered them more as partners--friends, really--than pets. He scratched Soot’s throat next and felt it vibrate with a deep purr. With Irene’s permission, Link picked up the cat. He was fond of the strays in Castle Town, and they him. Soot reminded him of the times he had spent in back alleys surrounded by the felines, feeding them scraps.

“He gets along better with animals and monsters than people,” Ganondorf remarked in a raised voice. It worked to turn Link around to face him. “Put your new friend down and go with Josef. He’s going to show you the bows he has. There’s a training yard set up in back. You can take all the time you need to pick out what you want.”

Link lowered Soot to the counter, and the cat walked over to Irene for more attention. The Regn Hylian felt uneasy following a stranger into the shadowy depths of the armory, but the _tataus_ reminded him of Ganondorf, and he was able to smile and nod whenever Josef addressed him. The array of bows on display further distracted Link from his anxiety. He perused the racks, bypassing most and plucking down the ones that caught his eye. 

Josef nodded in approval of each one. “You have an eye for this,” he said when Link had selected eleven choices from the thirty-odd bows. “These are some of my best. Come on, this way.” He indicated a door with a jerk of his head, and he helped Link carry the bows out.

Ganondorf watched from the counter until Link and Josef disappeared into the yard. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Irene, and the girl nodded. Ganondorf walked into the market square and traveled along its edge until he came to a quiet alcove where he could be seen but not heard. From his pocket he took out a blue stone. He had lifted it from one of Link’s pouches at the fireworks stall. 

It was Princess Zelda who greeted Ganondorf when he called into it. “I know,” she said after the Gerudo king requested to speak to Impa alone. Ganondorf didn’t have to ask what she meant by the statement. “How did it feel to root around in the mind of someone who trusts you?” Zelda asked.

Ganondorf didn’t rise to the taunt. He knew the princess was upset, and that everything was his fault. But arguing about it wasn’t going to fix things any faster. “If it’s any consolation,” he replied instead, “Link thinks very highly of you, Princess Zelda.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that,” Zelda returned. Ganondorf smiled to himself and mused on how Zelda, too, would make a good Gerudo.

“That’s enough, my princess,” Impa called from a distance away. The stone flashed when its twin passed hands. “Are you with Link?” was the first thing the Sheikah woman asked.

“Yes, he’s here at The Fortress, and he’s fine for the moment,” Ganondorf answered. He leaned his shoulders against the wall of the alcove. “I’m seeing to his new equipment. He was a mess when I met him in the market, literally and figuratively. What did you do to him?”

“Why are you asking me that?” Impa snapped. Ganondorf told her of the stain on Link’s tunic, and its frightening size. “But he was doing so well,” Impa remarked once the Gerudo king was finished. “Up until the king dodongo, that is.”

Zelda spoke up; Ganondorf guessed she was right beside her nurse. “Link was dead for a while until Impa brought him back around. He yelled at her for it later, saying he had seen his family in the Sacred Realm.”

“Grief,” Impa stated in sudden realization. Ganondorf nodded to himself in agreement. “He must have been suffering these past two days. I knew I shouldn’t have left him in that fountain, but I saw how angry he was, and I thought it was best to give him some room.”

“You did the right thing,” Ganondorf assured her. “Both of you did. Grief is more of a slow boil. Pushing Link closer to anger would have been worse. Listen, Nabooru and I are going to try to uproot the curse while he’s here. With luck, my big mistake will be nothing more than a memory by the morning. I’ll keep the stone on me, but don’t call from your end. I doubt Link will miss the stone unless he sees I have it. I’ll speak with you later once I have more information to share.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Zelda said before the stone in Ganondorf’s hand went dark. He hid it away in his pocket and returned to the armory shop.

Irene greeted Ganondorf once more and told him that Link was still in the yard with Josef. The sounds of thudding arrows and Josef’s voice led Ganondorf to the backdoor. He stepped out to the yard and leaned against the wall of the shop. Link was drawing back an arrow, aiming for a target sixty feet away. Nine bows lay some distance from him--an obvious rejection pile. 

“I’m close to a decision,” Link stated when he heard Ganondorf’s footsteps. 

“That was quick,” Ganondorf remarked. 

Josef laughed. “The kid knows what he wants.”

“I’m not a kid,” Link grumbled. The laughter died away, punctuated by the thud of Link’s arrow in the target. He frowned a little, put his current bow aside--a light-wooded bow marked with Gerudian designs--and picked up the second of the remaining two bows.

Josef waved a hand and told Ganondorf, “He’s gone back and forth a few times now.”

The second bow was of a darker wood with a raised design of ornate silver surrounding the grip. Link drew back one of his few remaining tern arrows and released. It appeared to be a mirrored act, but Ganondorf straightened a little and called out, “Shoot that one again, only with your usual enthusiasm.”

Link smirked and did as he was told without question. He had so far dragged out the process of notching and drawing in order to get a feel for every subtle movement of each bow. Now he notched and drew with a speed that made Josef curse. The release was just as quick.

“Now the other one, same thing,” Ganondorf instructed. Link swapped bows while Josef retrieved the seven arrows embedded in the target. One of the seven thudded back into the target seconds later. “The other one again,” Ganondorf told Link. “Stop.” Link paused with the bowstring drawn back to his cheek. “What do you think, Josef?”

Josef nodded. “Yeah, I think that one suits him better, too.” Link relaxed the bow and turned to the men. “That bow’s made of Gerudian _maclura_ wood. Trees don’t grow well in the desert. And yet, the desert is the only place where _maclura_ trees grow. Their tenacity for survival in such harsh conditions is what gives them the nickname ‘life trees’.”

“You like it?” Ganondorf asked Link.

The Regn Hylian nodded. “It feels the most like my old bow, but it has almost a kick to it, I guess you could say.”

“Everything that grows in the desert has a kick to it,” Josef remarked, much to Ganondorf’s amusement. “And a price,” the man added, more solemn. “Only a small number of _maclura_ trees are allowed to be cut every year.”

Link’s face tightened, and he looked back at the rejected bows. His fingers traced the upper limb of his preferred choice. “I can pick another--” 

“You forget who I am, Josef,” Ganondorf cut in over Link. He moved away from the wall and dropped a companionable hand onto Josef’s shoulder. “I told everyone else to forward the bill, but for you…” Ganondorf reached into a small pocket and pulled out a large, bloated wallet. It was more sorcery, but the rupees were real enough. “Payment on delivery. There’s a little more in there for your wife and daughter, too.”

Josef accepted the wallet with deep thanks. “My lord…” He shook his head and corrected himself. “Ganondorf, you’re too good to my family and me.”

“Just save me a spot at the dinner table next week,” Ganondorf told him. Josef agreed with a nod. “Speaking of food, I’m famished. Link, thank the man and let’s get out of here.”

Link nodded and bowed deeply with the bow clutched to his chest. _“Ictam gernat, damta.”_

_“Seirot,”_ Ganondorf corrected.

The back of Link’s _tataued_ neck flushed, and he rectified in haste, _“Seirot.”_

Josef laughed off the mistake and replied, “You’re welcome. Put that bow to good use.”

“I will,” Link promised. He insisted on helping Josef carry in the rejected bows. Ganondorf helped as well, and after saying goodbye to Irene and Soot, the men left the armory shop. Link plucked at the bowstring across his chest while he walked at Ganondorf’s side. “You two seemed close,” he remarked.

“We grew up together,” Ganondorf confirmed. “Josef’s family has served the Gerudian kings and their guards for generations. You have a piece of my people’s history around your chest. _Maclura_ was the favored wood for ancient Gerudian bows and staves. We don’t use it anymore because the trees are rarer, and Hyrule is willing to import more common woods of equal quality.”

“So I could have gone with a cheaper bow,” Link realized. 

“Forget about that,” Ganondorf told him in a tone that warned Link not to argue anymore. “Let’s get some food in our guts. I bet you I can get Nabooru to whip us up something. You like her cooking, right?” Link nodded. “Come on, then.”

There was no need for Ganondorf to ask Nabooru to showcase her cooking skills. As if she had read their minds on the way to the stronghold, she had breakfast waiting in the main kitchen. She joined the two men at the table and whistled at Link’s new bow, which he had placed beside him on his bench. “Putting the taxpayers’ money to good use, I see.”

“She’s joking,” Ganondorf was quick to say when Link’s fork hesitated on the path to his mouth. “I could buy one of those bows everyday for a year and still barely scrape the surface of the Gerudian vault. Merchant fees, tariffs, gifts… It piles up after so many years. The Fortress does well when it’s not at war.” He frowned and said more to himself, “I don’t know why anyone would want to change that.”

Nabooru murmured something in Gerudian that Link didn’t catch. In response, Ganondorf smiled a little and dug into his meal. He encouraged Link to do the same when he saw the Hylian still looking between him and Nabooru. 

Nabooru spoke up to Link when he was filling his plate a second time with eggs and helmasaur bacon. “How’ve you been doing?” she asked. Link shrugged. “Is that a good or bad answer?” Link shrugged again, eliciting laughter. “You’re staying at least one night, right?” Nabooru asked once she was finished chuckling. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Link replied with a frown. “I had just come to the market this morning to do some trading.”

“But now that you’re here, you’ll let us treat you some more, right?” Nabooru pressed. Link was still hesitant. “Come on, wouldn’t it be nice to sleep in a bed tonight?”

Link sighed and cut apart a fried egg. His brow was furrowed in irritation. “I’ve spent the better part of five years sleeping on the ground. I’m more used to that than a bed.”

“You slept well enough when--”

_“Loca,”_ Ganondorf cut in, low, and Nabooru stopped. She had failed to immediately notice the splotchy line of black blooming on Link’s sleeves.

“It shouldn’t be so responsive to such little emotion,” Nabooru murmured in Gerudian. 

“It’s close to cracking,” Ganondorf guessed. 

Nabooru nodded. “Being here in the stronghold probably isn’t helping.”

“Talking about me, are you?” Link spoke up, looking between the two Gerudo with dark eyes. 

Ganondorf forced a smile to his face. “I was just telling Nabooru that you don’t like to be coddled. Finish eating, and then I’ll walk you to the gate so that you can go about testing your new bow against the monsters of Hyrule.”

Link’s dark eyes cleared. “Well, if you’re that eager to be rid of me…” The stain stopped spreading across his clothes. The Hylian remained in a good mood throughout the rest of brunch and along the walk to The Fortress’s gate. He was quiet, however, and his hand frequently went to the bowstring against his chest. The hand sometimes shifted to his necklaces as well. After he and Ganondorf were through the gate, Link sucked in a deep breath and--

“You don’t need to thank me,” Ganondorf said before Link could form the first syllable. The Hylian’s in-taken breath escaped as a chuckle. “Come on, I’ll see you to your horse.” 

Once the line of people at the gate was a half-mile behind him, Link whistled a long, even note before falling quiet with an expectant look on his face. Ganondorf shook his head and asked, “Isn’t she grazing? The nearest grass is an hour’s ride away.”

“I’m not whistling for Epona,” Link replied. A black shape darted into view, and he stretched a hand out to offer Kara a perch when she descended. “Hello, Kara,” Link greeted, and the guay chirped. “Where’s the pretty horse?” 

Kara bobbed her head. “Epona?” she questioned with remarkable pronunciation. Ganondorf had to move away lest his guffaws frighten the bird into flight. “Pretty horse. Pretty pretty horse Epona.” The guay’s throat worked around each chirped word.

“Get Epona,” Link told her. He added a few _tocks_ of his tongue, imitating hooves, and Kara flew off across the desert towards Hyrule Field. “Guays can mimic speech,” Link added to Ganondorf.

“I see that now,” Ganondorf chuckled. “Did you teach her that?”

Link shook his head. “She picked up Epona’s name on her own. I’m building up her vocabulary, but she doesn’t like to talk. Shut up,” he added, before Ganondorf could make a remark. The Gerudo king closed his mouth and smiled. “The training is the easier part. Epona knows that Kara is associated with me, so she’ll follow. And Kara learned the behavior in just a few days.”

“That won’t get Epona here any faster,” Ganondorf pointed out.

Link nodded. “I know. But I have arrows to make, so I can pass the time here.” Ganondorf had carried Link’s rucksack for him, and now the Hylian accepted it with a word of thanks. He was surprised when Ganondorf took a seat on the ground opposite him. 

“I said I would see you to your horse,” Ganondorf reminded Link. He gestured to the rucksack. “Show me how this is done. I usually rely on my girls or use sorcery to make arrows.”

Link took out shafts, arrowheads, and tern feathers from the rucksack, along with a roll of burlap and the bag of Gerudian black powder, twine, and tools. “I didn’t know you could shoot a bow,” he said as he laid out the supplies.

Ganondorf nodded. “It’s something nearly every Gerudo picks up, along with riding and swordplay. I prefer a magic bow, though.” Link frowned, and Ganondorf raised his arms. He mimed drawing back a bowstring, and in response a bow and arrow made of shadows and silver runes materialized in his hands. Link’s eyes widened with wonder, but Ganondorf made the bow disappear with a wave of his hand as if it was nothing; the shadows and runes went up in black smoke. “It’s no good for hunting, but it’s good for casting powerful magic when a stabilizer can’t be found.”

“A what?”

“A stabilizer--something to ground powerful sorcery.”

“Huh?”

Ganondorf muttered in Gerudian to himself. “Time to teach me something instead,” he said with a wave at the arrow shafts. He paid close attention as Link went over the steps of crafting an arrow, from point to fletching. Packing the Gerudian black powder around the arrow head was easier than Ganondorf thought it would be. The hardest part was keeping the powder from getting lost in the loose sand beneath him and Link. The Hylian explained how the flint tied to the end of each fuse caught the steel lip of the quiver to create an igniting spark. 

“It doesn’t always work,” Link admitted. “Probably one in every ten doesn’t light the first time. Or, in rare instances, the flint will break off when it strikes the steel before the spark can ignite the fuse.”

Ganondorf finished knotting the fuse to a new bomb arrow. “What do you do then if a monster is bearing down on you?”

Link shrugged and grinned. “Play it by ear.”

Ganondorf chuckled. “I would pray.”

“The Goddesses don’t care enough to listen,” Link insisted with sudden anger.

“Maybe,” Ganondorf agreed, merely to ease him. “How’s this?” He raised the arrow he had finished. Link nodded in approval. “This is almost therapeutic. You know what else is nice?” Link raised his eyebrows. “Nabooru gives excellent massages. They make you feel like a new person afterwards.” Ganondorf nodded at the gate some distance behind him. “I think she’d be happy if you took up her offer to stay a night. She’s been worried about you, too.” Link frowned. “Just think about it while we finish up these arrows.”

By the bottom of the black powder bag, Link had twelve bomb arrows to fill up the quiver Epona would have with her, along with numerous normal arrows. After filling his depleted quiver with the latter, he looked across the horizon in search of Epona while Ganondorf packed away the remainder of the supplies back into the rucksack. Link’s gaze fell on the silhouette of his horse and the bird atop her raised head. He whistled, but the mare didn’t move save to twitch her tail. “What’s her problem?” 

Ganondorf gestured to Epona. “Go get her. I’ll finish packing up your things.” Link pushed himself onto his feet and broke into a jog towards Epona. He took the bomb arrows with him to put them away in his quiver. 

With most of the supplies used up for arrows, Ganondorf had an easy time packing Link’s rucksack. He used the extra time to take out the gossip stone and call to Impa. “Link’s not too keen to stay the night, and I don’t want to force him into something he doesn’t want,” the Gerudo king relayed. “The curse is close to breaking. I’ll try some more to convince him.”

“Good luck,” Impa wished before the stone went dark.

Ganondorf tucked the stone away again and stood up. His foot slipped on a patch of ground that shifted beneath him, and the heel fell against something hard. Ganondorf looked down and saw a black shape moving beneath his feet. He sucked in a sharp breath and shouted, _“Link!”_

Sand burst up around Ganondorf, driving him back with his arms raised against the stinging particles. A shriek split the quiet of the desert, and a hard blow sent the Gerudo king falling down against the ground. He rolled to his feet as fast as he could and spun to face the threat.

It was a moldarach, as Ganondorf had guessed at the first glimpse of black beneath the sand. Unlike the nightmare he had met in Link’s mind, this moldarach was livid with detail. Its mismatched pincers snapped at the air while the kinks in its exoskeleton clicked together and flashed orange edges. The heavy tail swayed above the elongated body, and the clawed legs dug gouges into the sand when the monster advanced towards Ganondorf.

Ganondorf flicked his wrists, and a long, thin sword appeared in each hand. He used them to parry the next blow of the moldarach’s larger pincer, and the blades sparked against the monster’s exoskeleton. He attempted to slice at the moldarach’s eyes next; the largest one was centered above the monster’s mandibles, and made for a fine target. The monster responded with a quick shift of its feet that pulled it out of the long reach of Ganondorf’s blades. “Come back here, coward!” Ganondorf shouted, and he slashed his blades through the air, making them whistle. 

The moldarach shrieked and advanced once more. Ganondorf ducked beneath a sudden jab of its tail and retaliated with a slash that cut into the soft meat inside the monster’s smaller pincer. The pincer fell open, the bottom portion limp, and the monster shrieked as it retreated a second time. 

Ganondorf laughed. “That’s right, _bindasta,_ I sting, too!” He closed the distance to the moldarach and made to swing one of his blades at its eyes. He was unprepared for the sudden speed the monster displayed when it charged to meet him. Ganondorf’s sword was parried with a thick pincer; a pincer that then met his side in a hard blow. He didn’t have time to brace for it, and it dropped him to the ground. The moldarach scrambled over him, and its gnashing mandibles went for his neck.

A bomb arrow exploded against the moldarach’s carapace. Its mandibles jerked back from Ganondorf’s neck as it shrieked in pain and anger. A second bomb arrow weakened the disabled pincer further, and the beast retreated fully from Ganondorf. The Gerudo king gained his feet without delay, brushed sand out of his eyes, and raised his blades in defense.

“And you say it’s _me_ who’s reckless,” Link grumbled as he came to a stop at Ganondorf’s right. He had rushed to the Gerudo king after retrieving his sword and the bomb arrow quiver, but the exertion wasn’t what had brought the flushed color to his face. 

Ganondorf spared a glance for Link while the moldarach strafed around them, analyzing the new threat. “You okay?”

Link’s eyes hardened as his brow furrowed. “I’m going to kill it for trying to hurt you,” he declared. “Then Impa will know I can take care of myself out here.”

“Sure, Link,” Ganondorf said with a troubled look. “Here it comes again.”

The moldarach advanced on Link’s side, perhaps thinking the smaller of the men was the least dangerous. It learned of its error the hard way when Link shot an arrow that took out one of its smaller eyes. The monster broke out of its run with a shriek, and swiped at the arrow with its limp pincer until the shaft broke away. 

Link grinned. “I like this bow.” He swapped it for his sword, however, and closed the distance to the moldarach with an angry cry on his lips. A few slashes cracked the moldarach’s carapace, but it defended its vulnerable eyes with its good pincer before stabbing its stinger down at Link. The Hylian barely dodged; the stinger kicked up dirt inches from his boot heel. Link backed away, warding off another blow with his sword, and rejoined Ganondorf. “That exoskeleton’s tough,” Link snarled.

“Didn’t you and Rusl defeat one before?” Ganondorf asked.

Link nodded. “I chopped off the smaller pincer with a lucky blow. Master Rusl kept the other one busy while I went for the eyes.” Link paused to back up with Ganondorf when the moldarach advanced again. The Gerudo king deterred it with a few slashes of his sword. “Once the monster was blinded, it was easy to go for the weak points in its body. We literally hacked it apart.” Link swallowed with difficulty. “The babies that killed Master Rusl were hiding under a false plate on its back.”

“Is that the case here?” Ganondorf asked. He had no desire to die this day.

Link shook his head. “Wrong time of the year.” He raised his sword. “I’ll go for the pincer.”

“No, _I’ll_ go for the pincer,” Ganondorf insisted. “You’re quicker. Get inside that thing’s range and go for the eyes.” Link frowned, but nodded. “Move!”

Link darted off to circle around on the moldarach’s weaker side. It turned to face him with a swing of its tail, only to spin back around when it felt Ganondorf’s swords bite into its body in a whirl of slashes. The moldarach’s better pincer swung at Ganondorf, but the Gerudo king braced his feet and endured the hit. The blow shifted him a foot, but no more, and he was able to slice at the pincer before it could be withdrawn. The moldarach had learned from the first attack; it kept the pincer closed, and Ganondorf’s blades drew only scratches across the exoskeleton. 

While Ganondorf contended with the moldarach’s pincers, Link was left to deal with the deadly tail. It had a full range of movement, but the size slowed it down just enough for Link to be able to dodge the blows. He slashed at it when he could, aiming for the weaknesses in the exoskeleton. The tail was the moldarach’s most flexible part, and there were many openings between the multitudes of plates, yet they were almost always just out of reach. 

“Go for the eyes!” Ganondorf shouted as he parried a blow aimed for his back. 

Link didn’t need the reminder. He shifted towards the moldarach’s head, but once more the tail swooped towards him, forcing him to jump back. He sliced at the tail, but missed. “I don’t have your reach!” Link called back. 

“Well I don’t have your speed!” Ganondorf retorted. He staggered back a step when the moldarach’s good pincer struck his side. He was taking a lot of hard blows, whereas Link hadn’t yet suffered a serious hit. 

The Hylian moved in towards the moldarach’s head once more. He tracked the swinging tail in the corner of his eye. When it stabbed down at him, he moved inward instead of outward. His chest struck the moldarach’s carapace while the stinger sunk a few inches into the sand behind him. Link stabbed his sword down into a kink in the monster’s body. It shrieked, and the distraction of its pain allowed Link to clamber up onto its back. His hope was that the moldarach would be less reluctant to strike so close to its body.

It was only four steps to the moldarach’s eyes, but on top of its shifting, bucking body the distance seemed a mile. Link spent the better part of a half minute gaining and then losing the first step as he rode out the moldarach’s struggles against Ganondorf, and dodged the swinging stinger. Link cursed the monster at every near-miss. It wasn’t this hard to fight a moldarach years ago alongside Master Rusl, so why was it so difficult now?

_We were similar in fighting style,_ Link remembered. The stinger landed a hit, biting through Link’s bracer to dig a gouge into his arm. Fortunately, after the monster’s thousand-year-long growth the poison was played out of it. _Gan and I fight differently,_ Link realized. _We’re not unified because we haven’t fought together much. We don’t know how to work with each other’s strengths and weaknesses._

Ganondorf was strong, but slower and blunter in his attacks. Link was faster and more accurate, but he couldn’t take much abuse. Ganondorf had taken several unblocked blows and he was still on his feet, lashing out with his blades when he could. If he freed his hands… “Gan!” Link called. “I can’t do anything with it moving like this! You need to keep it still!” 

Ganondorf understood, although the look on his face told Link he wasn’t thrilled with the suggested plan. A flick of his wrists sent the swords back into the ether, and he charged forward. His hands clamped down at the point where the moldarach’s pincers met its body, and he applied all of his strength in holding the moldarach in place. The monster shrieked and swung its pincers at its attacker’s back. Its mandibles gnashed inches from the Gerudo king’s bowed face.

Link heard the thud of the blows and hoped Ganondorf would forgive him; it sounded as if they hurt. Yet with the moldarach stilled, Link was able to close the distance to the monster’s eyes. The tail swung at him just as he neared the eyes; the stinger flashed in the corner of Link’s eye. He back flipped away, came down hard but safe on the carapace, and drove his sword down into the moldarach’s largest eye.

The moldarach voiced its loudest shriek yet. The tail shuddered before it began to swipe repeatedly at Link in manic anger. The stinger bit into its own carapace in desperation to strike the Hylian. 

Ganondorf had already retreated, and had his swords in hand once more. Link slid off of the moldarach and joined his side. “It can still sense us enough to attack,” Link warned. “If we draw close enough…” The moldarach’s angry shrieks and pincer snaps finished Link’s sentence.

“Its insides are soft enough,” Ganondorf suggested. He and Link passed a look. “King dodongo style, you think?”

“Now we’re naming our attacks, huh?” Link asked with a laugh. He sheathed his sword and took up his new bow. 

“I’ll warm it up for you,” Ganondorf told Link, flashing a grin and cracking his knuckles. “Don’t miss!” He rushed forward to engage the moldarach once more. 

The monster sensed its enemy’s footsteps through the ground and turned with a shriek to match the cry on Ganondorf’s lips. The Gerudo king’s fist, soaked in flickering sorcery, drove down into the monster’s ruined eye. He followed it up with a slash of a sword that sliced into a kink and drew a spray of black blood. A pincer swung at him; he met it with his shoulder and forced it away. 

Link stood at a safe distance with his bow ready and his fingers hovering over a bomb arrow’s fletching. He watched Ganondorf attack the moldarach with both fists and swords, always a few inches away from having a limb bitten or snapped off. Despite the danger, he appeared to be having fun--if his enthusiastic laughter was to be believed.

The moldarach soon dropped into a defensive cower with both pincers over its head. Ganondorf flicked his swords away in favor of a purple aura of magic that coated his arms. It gave strength and protection to his hands when he took hold of the moldarach’s gnashing mouth and opened it as wide as it would go. _“Now!”_

The softer mouth and throat were lined up with Link’s bomb arrow. He released, and the sizzling arrow shot into the mouth, the fletching passing an inch below Ganondorf’s chin. The Gerudo king dropped his hands away and backed up. 

The moldarach shrieked at Ganondorf and charged. Both sound and movement were cut off by an internal explosion that sent the monster rising a foot into the air. It came down with another shriek and buckled. The tail dropped, the pincers relaxed, and smoke spilled out between the kinks of its exoskeleton.

Link whooped and jumped in victory, and Ganondorf dropped down to the ground to stretch out with a sigh of relief. His body vibrated in pain, but a short concentration of his sorcery sent the bruises away. He could already hear Nabooru cursing him when she heard of the reckless fight. She wouldn’t see the fun in it like he had.

With the moldarach dispatched, Epona was willing to join Link when he whistled to her. Ganondorf listened to the clop of hooves and murmured praise while he soaked up the sun’s warmth. “So you’re staying the night to celebrate our success, right?” he asked Link. The Hylian didn’t answer, so Ganondorf sat up to address him better. The Gerudo king frowned when he saw Link was crouched by the moldarach’s tail. He was tying a rope around it. “What are you doing?”

Link straightened up with the loose end of the rope in his hands. “Impa has to believe me now,” he replied. The rope was tied to Epona’s saddle horn. A short whistle had her walking forward a few steps until a second whistle stopped her. Link nodded in approval of the relative ease in which Epona dragged the moldarach. 

Ganondorf ran a hand through his hair. “Please tell me you’re not going to drag that thing to Hyrule Castle. Epona’s not a draft horse, little fish.”

“It’s not as heavy as it looks,” Link replied. He pushed on the raised tail, making it shudder. “Strong, but not heavy. And I’ll take breaks.”

Ganondorf gained his feet and walked over to Epona. “Link, think this through. This is a ridiculous--”

“She doesn’t believe in me,” Link snapped. “She says she does, but she’s always worrying about me, or telling me what I’m doing is wrong. But look--I killed this thing without Master Rusl’s help.” He appeared to have forgotten Ganondorf’s contribution to the fight. “I avenged him all on my own.”

Link’s lacking rationale and gratitude pricked at Ganondorf’s nerves, which were already strained from the moldarach battle. He couldn’t keep the harsh edge out of his voice when he asked, “So now you can stop hunting monsters, right?” 

Link’s face flushed, and he turned away from Ganondorf without comment. He was drawn back around by a hard hand around his arm. “Get off of me!” 

“You’re hurt,” Ganondorf pointed out. He tugged on the arm for emphasis. Blood was leaking out of the cut in the bracer, and the sleeve was turning red. 

“I’m fine,” Link snapped. “I’ve suffered a lot worse.”

“You’re not fine--you’re injured,” Ganondorf insisted. “Come back to The Fortress. I can have Nabooru stitch this up for you.”

“I don’t need your help!” Link shouted with a push at Ganondorf’s chest. 

It was a minor assault, yet coupled with Ganondorf’s growing irritation it was enough to spark his rage. He had his fingers buried in Link’s collars before he knew what had happened. He jerked the Hylian closer, and Link grimaced. His blue eyes hardened in challenge next, and Ganondorf saw them from a dozen different angles in a dozen different points in time. 

_Go on,_ Koume whispered in Ganondorf’s left ear. 

_You know you want to,_ Kotake added in the right.

A few inches separated Ganondorf’s fingers from Link’s neck. With his strength, it would be child’s play to break it. The smell of the blood leaking from _the Hero’s_ wound urged him on. He shifted his clenched hand. 

Link staggered back from Ganondorf’s shove, and the Gerudo king pointed a finger at him. “Don’t come crying to me if Lady Impa slaps your ass in jail,” Ganondorf snapped. Link glared back and turned to mount his saddle. The curse had stained his shirt again, following the spine as a smear of black. A snap of Epona’s reins started the mare towards Hyrule Field at a slow walk, with the moldarach skidding and shuddering across the rough ground behind her.

Ganondorf waited until Link was a blot on the horizon before he pulled out the gossip stone. Impa was the first to greet him this time in her usual stiff way. Ganondorf returned the greeting, but hesitated before speaking further. 

“What is it?” Impa urged a third time. The stone in Ganondorf’s hand flickered like a low flame. 

Ganondorf dropped his chin and rubbed at his forehead. “Have your best men at the drawbridge in the next two hours.”

“I thought you were going to take care of things.” Impa’s voice seethed with anger.

“I tried, but I couldn’t push him without risking an aggravation of the curse. He’s not right in the head, Lady Impa. He’s dragging a dead moldarach to your front door. He wants to show you he can take care of himself.”

Impa was quiet for a few seconds. Ganondorf waited for an outburst or a denial. “Then I’ll tell him what he wants to hear,” Impa decided. “It should keep him calm enough until you and Nabooru can see to him.”

“You want us there then?” Ganondorf asked.

“As soon as possible, yes, if it isn’t an inconvenience.”

“Fine. We should be there an hour or two after Link arrives, depending on how many breaks he takes--if any.”

“Thank you,” Impa said. The stone went dark in Ganondorf’s hand.

Ganondorf pocketed the stone and ran a hand over his sweaty face. “You have nothing to thank me for,” he murmured.

##########

**Translations:**

**All of the following is Gerudian.**

_maclura:_ This word is presented as Gerudian, but it’s taken from the scientific name for the Osage orange tree; a tree used for its wood when making bows.

_“Ictam gernat, damta.”:_ Link incorrectly says, “Thank you, ma’am,” in Gerudian. Ganondorf corrects him with _seirot,_ which means “sir”.

_Loca:_ Look

_bindasta:_ bastard


	19. Immersion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link is brought to a new low, yet it is nothing compared to what awaits him at Koume's and Kotake's hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're only a few hits away from 200! Thank you for all of your support and kudos. Everything is appreciated.
> 
> Sheikan is spoken in this chapter. Translations are provided at the end, as always.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you!

# -Blue Arrow-

### Immersion

The lack of traffic moving towards Castle Town was the only indication Link needed to tell him something was wrong. He paused with his knife embedded halfway through his apple and glanced around at the road. The white curtain walls were two miles ahead. Around it, a scattering of bomskits were in the field, along with a bullbo herd much farther away; Link could see the dust cloud. High above, four kargarocs that had followed the dragged moldarach carcass circled overhead. Link’s sharp eyes caught a column of people next. They were far to his left, and going in and out of a little-used west entrance. 

Was there a problem with the main gate? Link’s hand went to his pouches in search of the gossip stone. Not finding it there, he searched his saddlebags. It was missing. When did he--

Link stopped, remembering Ganondorf’s hand at his waist; and the Gerudo king’s short disappearance from the armory. His hands tightened into fists, and he continued towards Castle Town with his body tense in anticipation of a confrontation. 

There were six guards waiting in front of the drawbridge. One of them was Ashei, one of the few soldiers Link respected. The men and women were joined by Captain Viscen and Impa. Link despised Viscen. The captain had taken no lengths to hide how he would never forgive Link for Rusl’s death, and that attitude had spread to most of the people under his command. Link also found the soldiers far too cowardly for men and women who were charged with protecting a kingdom. With few exceptions, the soldiers preferred drink over duty.

Link stopped ten feet in front of Impa and tossed his apple core aside. The kargarocs fell to wheeling overhead with their bleating cries. _“Fini mide daeg,”_ Link greeted with a smile. His gaze avoided everyone but Impa. 

Impa’s shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “Hello, Link,” she returned. Her chin nodded towards the moldarach carcass. “What is that?”

“What does it look like?” Link countered. He unknotted the rope binding the carcass to Epona’s saddle horn and moved her away to offer the full view of the moldarach. “I imagine Gan already told you what happened,” Link said harshly with a pointed look. Impa’s gaze didn’t waver. “Well? _Sagena hametheh.”_

Impa nodded. “You did a good job, Link. I’m sure Master Rusl is proud of you.” Beside her, Viscen snorted. Link’s narrowed eyes snapped to him for a few seconds. “Now please take this mess somewhere else. We had to deter Castle Town traffic because of it, and I want things to go back to normal as soon as possible.” Impa kept as even a voice as she could manage given Link’s arrogance, and her concern for the stain she could see creeping over the front of his tunic. The kargarocs also had her on edge, for they had dropped twenty feet already. She gestured and muttered a command to the two archers within the group. They loaded their crossbows and kept their eyes on the monsters.

Link saw this and smiled. “Relax, I’m just living up to one of my names,” he explained. “I have to make sure you guys stay on your toes, right? Keep the moldarach, Impa. _E giefea praeow.”_

“I don’t want it, Link,” Impa replied. “Please take it away. You’ve proven your point.”

Link bristled and snapped out, _“Quis sagent e punctgam ic haben?”_

The soldiers behind Impa and Viscen tensed, and a few of them drew out their blades. Viscen heard the scrape of steel, and he turned his head to snap, “Who told you to draw?”

“It moved, Captain Viscen!” one of the female soldiers explained, and she pointed to the moldarach carcass.

Link laughed. “It’s just the extra life trapped in the nerves.” The laughter dropped away when Epona whinnied and shifted to the left. Link glared at the armed soldiers and accused, “You’re making her nervous. Put those weapons away.”

“You don’t give orders around here, brat,” Viscen told Link. 

“Well, someone has to, seeing how you’re not,” Link returned with a hard look.

“That’s enough!” Impa snapped. A crossbow bolt flew over her shoulder, accompanied by a cry of alarm. One of the kargarocs had dove for the moldarach carcass. The monster took the bolt in the wing and broke out of its descent with a cry of pain. It tumbled to the ground and landed hard with a second, weaker cry.

The remaining three kargarocs retaliated against the soldiers, and in little time the air was thick with shouted orders and bleating squawks. Epona added her whinnies when she reared in panic. Link was dropped from the saddle; a soldier stepped on his splayed fingers, and his anger spiked. He pulled his hand free, gained his feet, and hurried to where Epona had retreated from the kargaroc battle. Now he had to save the very soldiers who hated him. It was ridiculous! Link grabbed his bow and sword from Epona’s saddles, cursing all the while. He was belting on the scabbard when a monstrous shriek cut through the battle sounds. A scream answered it. 

Three of its eight legs were broken, and the smaller pincer dragged, but the moldarach had strength left to face the soldiers and their captains. It charged, scattering them and the remaining kargaroc; the other three were dead, and their bodies were trampled beneath the moldarach. The monster’s tail stabbed down while its larger pincer snapped at the retreating soldiers’ backs. 

Link drew, notched, and shot an arrow at a kink in the moldarach’s exoskeleton which the earlier bomb arrow had opened further. The arrowhead bit into the monster’s softer meat, and it whirled around with a shriek. Another arrow found the remains of its largest eye, drawing more pain that sent the monster’s tail whipping around. It moved fast enough to crack the air. One unlucky soldier caught the stinger across the back of his shoulders. He was dragged away by another soldier, screaming in pain and dripping blood from his sliced armor.

A bell had started to ring on the other side of the curtain wall, and Link could see reinforcements rushing down the road towards the gate; he hurried to cut them off. This was _his_ battle, and he wasn’t going to allow someone else the glory of taking the monster down. What would Impa think of him then?

_She already thinks poorly of you._

_Just fight._

Impa shouted something at Link when he neared the moldarach, but he didn’t hear the words through the ones in his head. He shot another arrow at close range, adding to the one already in the ruins of the monster’s eye. It backed up, and Link was able to swap his bow for his sword. He charged at the moldarach with a cry on his lips to match the monster’s screams. Its pincer came around on his left; he slashed it away and moved inside its range. His sword bit down into a kink close by the moldarach’s head, and he wrenched the blade back and forth; digging, slicing, and kicking up sprays of black blood that added to the stain on his clothes which he couldn’t see was spreading.

The moldarach flailed its appendages before pushing past its pain and stabbing down with its tail. Link pulled his sword free and leapt back in the nick of time to avoid the stinger, which would have plunged straight down into his head if he had lingered a half-second longer. The stinger stuck in the ground for a few seconds, and Link moved in once more. A downward slash freed the useless, smaller pincer from the moldarach’s body. It shrieked and scuttled backwards, leaving the appendage behind. 

“Link, get out of there!” Impa screamed over the noise, and Link looked back. Soldiers were rushing to join her and Viscen’s sides. They were wheeling two cannons into place. The Regn Hylian shook his head and engaged the moldarach once more. His sword bit down again and again while he dodged the tail and remaining pincer. 

The ground was soon slick with blood, none of it Link’s. He grinned through a mask of black smears when he saw the moldarach stumble on its weakening legs. The tail was swinging with less than half of its previous speed, and the pincer couldn’t close all the way anymore. Link liberated the monster of this latter with two more slashes. The pincer dropped to the ground and snapped at empty air for a few seconds while the moldarach shrieked.

 _“Link!”_ Impa screamed again. 

The moldarach charged with a speed and power that Link thought was now impossible for it. He didn’t dodge in time, and the monster plowed over him. He fell onto his back and brought his sword up barely in time to block the gnashing mouth that went for his face. The mandibles sparked against the steel while blood and saliva dripped down to dampen Link’s tunic. It would have disgusted him if he had the time for such things. Instead, he had to maintain his block while the moldarach’s tail repeatedly snapped down towards his head. He jerked his head to the left or right when necessary. The blows passed so close at times that Link felt the wiry bristles around the bloated stinger brush his cheek.

A cannonball smashed into the moldarach’s carapace. The boom of the cannon followed a half-second later, overshadowed in Link’s ears by the monster’s shriek. It backed up off of him, and when he approached it again, it swiped at him with its tail. 

Link dodged the stinger, but not the tail itself. The jointed appendage connected hard with his chest. The air was forced out of his lungs, and he was sent rolling away across the grass. He came to a stop and rushed to collect his breath. 

Two more cannonballs thudded into the moldarach, and the monster turned towards the soldiers to rush them. Link felt the recoil of the cannons through the ground. It encouraged him to push himself up onto his hands and knees. He couldn’t let those good-for-nothing cowards finish his fight. He had to get back onto his feet.

Epona walked to Link and offered a neigh in concern. Link looked up at her, and his eyes caught on his unique arrow, snug in its sleeve. Inspiration--and anger, and a desire to prove himself capable--pushed Link onto his feet. He mounted the saddle and spurred Epona towards the moldarach. His training overrode her fear of the monster, and she charged forward with a whinny. Link hugged her back while his hands took hold of the unique arrow. The shaft was broken off, and his fingers triggered the blue blade.

“Hold your fire!” Impa ordered when she saw Link approaching the moldarach again. 

The bolts stopped flying, and the last cannonball struck the moldarach’s tail, crippling it. Yet the monster still lived. Link made to remedy that by vaulting off of Epona’s bucking back and descending with his glowing arrowhead in his hands. He landed hard on the monster’s back, and the arrowhead passed through the exoskeleton with ease. 

Link straddled the moldarach’s body and stabbed down again and again. It was almost laughable how well the arrowhead’s glowing blade cut through the monster’s natural armor. Pieces of exoskeleton were scattered in sprays of black blood. The monster’s cries and struggles grew weaker with each plunge of the weapon until a final burst of blood signaled its demise. The moldarach slumped on its legs, and the broken tail drooped to the ground for good.

Link braced his hands against the moldarach, shook his soaked bangs out of his eyes, and blinked the red fog from his eyes while he took in several rapid breaths. It took him a few seconds to remember what he was doing on top of the dead monster. He slid off of it in a half-daze and called Epona over with a weak whistle. The arrowhead was tucked away into a saddlebag. Link secured his weapons on the mare as well. After such a battle, the soldiers would be tense and on hair-triggers. It would be foolish to approach them while armed. Besides, he didn’t need weapons to deal with the soft soldiers. A glare was enough to make them falter. 

With the weapons put away, Link approached the gathered men and women by the stilled cannons. He put confidence into his face and step even though the ache in his back and shoulders was draining his remaining strength. When he passed by the moldarach, he kicked it hard with a muttered, _“Sunabicce.”_

Where there were once six soldiers there was now almost three times that many. They eyed Link from behind the comforting presence of the cannons. Link flicked some black blood from his fingers in their direction, and laughed when some of them flinched. “Impa!” he called, gaily, as he neared the Sheikah woman. “I did it! It’s dead for good this time, _ic promite.”_

Viscen stepped forward before Impa could reply. “Arrest him,” he snapped to his soldiers. 

Link’s cheer died away. “What? On what grounds? _Hey!”_ He pulled his arm out of a pair of hands that had seized him, and he retaliated with a punch. 

“Resisting arrest, for one,” Viscen replied while Link struggled with the four soldiers that were surrounding and taking hold of him. “Get him under control and throw him in a cell.”

 _“The hell you will!”_ Link shouted back. His hand went for the blade that wasn’t there, and he was shoved down against the ground under the weight of two soldiers. He bit at a hand holding down his pained shoulder, and it repaid him with a hard punch to the head. Link’s head swam from the blow, and his struggles ceased long enough for the soldiers to get rope around his wrists. The feeling of the tight hemp against his skin brought him back around. “Let me go!” he screamed. His legs kicked, caught a thigh, and were quickly subdued. 

Anger was diffusing to panic. Link’s breaths quickened, and he raised pleading eyes in search of Impa’s face. He found her, but she had turned to her side to avoid looking at him. “Impa!” Link cried. “Impa, stop them please! _Placare meistre! Salva min! Placare! Placare! Meistre, loconin min placare!”_

Viscen sneered. “I prefer him when he lives up to his silent name. Ashei!” He gestured at Link.

Ashei crouched down by Link’s head with a makeshift gag stretched between her hands. Link felt the brush of the fabric, and his panicked eyes hardened. He snarled with a bite at her hand. A hard blow fell against Link’s head once more, but Ashei didn’t pull it like her fellow had done. Pain radiated through Link’s head and neck to join with that in his shoulders, and it spread a heavy blanket over his thoughts. He tried one final time to struggle free, and a hard foot connected with the underside of his chin.

Impa watched the soldiers carry Link’s unconscious form towards the gate. Her tongue was heavy with all of the things she had failed to say to stop the arrest, or to soothe Link’s panic. The words were stopped by her better sense; she knew this had to happen. She had seen it in nearly every new recruit she had trained. A low had to be reached before the recruit grew strong again. Surely the same held true for Link.

Viscen spared Impa a look, and narrowed his eyes at the concern he could see in her face. “You should have nipped this problem in the bud five years ago,” he told her. “Hell, you should have thrown the whelp into the moat the first night you found him. No child half out of his mind with grief should have gotten into the castle gardens undetected--even on a stormy night. He’s not normal, Lady Impa. He needs to be kept behind lock and key.”

Impa turned to Epona to avoid addressing the remarks. She heard Viscen scoff before walking away. “Come here, pretty girl,” Impa called in a lilting voice. Epona snorted with a shake of her head, but approached the familiar Sheikah woman. “I know, I know,” Impa murmured when the mare lifted her nose towards the gate. “He’ll be back, I promise. Let’s get you to the stables. I bet you’re thirsty from dragging that monster, huh?”

Ganondorf called on Impa while she was seeing to Epona’s tack in a quiet stall. (The stable hands, recognizing the horse, had given her a wide berth. Impa further protected the mare with a threat to break anyone’s arm should they harm her.) “How are things?” Ganondorf asked through the gossip stone in Impa’s hand. The stone flashed in rhythm to the clop of hooves behind his voice. 

“Not good,” Impa replied, and she told him and Nabooru of the moldarach fight. 

“Perhaps I’ve been too hopeful in thinking we could end this curse quietly,” Ganondorf remarked when Impa was finished.

Impa didn’t answer his. She was studying the bow that she had pulled off of Epona. Her hands traced the smooth, dark wood and intricate metal ornamentation. She recognized real silver, and not just any silver--the purest kind from the depths of the Gorons’ mines. It was identifiable by the faint blue tint that could be seen in just the right light. “How far out are you?” Impa asked.

Ganondorf conferred with Nabooru just out of earshot. “About two hours,” he answered.

“Come to my study once you’ve passed greetings with the king and queen. I want to speak to you before you see Link.”

Ganondorf chuckled. “Am I in trouble?”

Impa took the bow off of Epona and shouldered it. The rest of the weapons she secured with Link’s belongings; the mare’s reputation would protect it all well enough. “I don’t know yet.” 

#

Ganondorf passed a look with Nabooru before returning his eyes to the bow laid out across Impa’s desk. He and his fellow Gerudo had taken seats in the Sheikah woman’s study at her request, yet for the first few minutes Impa had done nothing except pace. Her eyes were dark with deep thoughts, and more than once she tried to speak only to break off with a shake of her head. 

Nabooru shrugged and gestured at Impa, and Ganondorf cleared his throat; Impa turned to him. “How are you today, Lady Impa?”

Impa snorted a humorless laugh. “How am I?” She laughed again, this time with an edge of sadness. “I just watched a young man that I raised from eight years old deteriorate into little more than a beast.” Her voice began to rise. “I watched Link turn into something I didn’t recognize, and I had to stand aside and say nothing as my men threw him down and tied him up like a pig for slaughter. They beat him unconscious. They’re probably beating him some more at this very moment. And I could only stand aside and listen to Viscen telling me that I should have drowned Link instead of taking him in because _he’s not normal._ Now ask me again how I am!”

 _“Brun dun,”_ Nabooru implored. Both Impa and Ganondorf turned to her in surprise, for the plea was  
Sheikan. Nabooru smiled a little and explained, “Link taught me a few phrases. Lady Impa, we all care for him. That’s why we’re here. Please let us help. Take a seat, and let’s talk.”

“You did the right thing by not speaking up, my lady,” Ganondorf added as Impa took a seat.

“I know,” Impa replied. Her voice was calm once more. “I know.” She sighed and ran a hand through her white hair. Her voice hardened once more when she picked up, “Your supposed shared concern is why I’ve called you here--you specifically, Lord Ganondorf.”

“Just Ganondorf,” the Gerudo king insisted. He eyed the bow when Impa pushed it forward.

Impa tapped the bow’s rest. “I recognize this wood and metal. This bow could get you four heads of fine horse, with change to spare for a carriage for them to draw. And you bought it for Link as if it was little more than candy for a favorite nephew.”

“He got candy as well, actually,” Ganondorf put in. Nabooru kicked him under the desk. “It was a gift,” Ganondorf continued, more serious. “He needed, and I provided.”

“Why?” Impa pressed. “That’s what I can’t understand. I know your ancestors’ history, Ganondorf, and I have a terrible feeling all of this _providing_ is part of a more nefarious plot. Link has always had his troubles, but ever since he met you it seems as though he’s only gone downhill.”

Ganondorf had grown tired of having his people’s past tossed into his face. He pressed his palms into his eyes for a moment before spreading the hands to plead for understanding. “As I’ve said before, I’m not my ancestors,” he nearly growled, and Impa tensed in her seat. “And, the curse aside, things haven’t all been downhill for Link. He’s talking to Princess Zelda again, isn’t he? He’s speaking to you more as well, and he even has people he calls friends now. When we first met, he wouldn’t even cry out when I attacked him.”

Impa’s eyes narrowed. “So it was _you_ who tore him down that night he called me crying.”

Nabooru caught Impa’s attention before either she or Ganondorf could escalate the conversation. “Ganondorf’s intentions are sincere,” she assured the Sheikah woman. “You speak of ancestors as if you know something about them, Lady Impa.”

“I do. Princess Zelda went to sleep every night as a child to my stories of ancient Hyrule.”

Nabooru nodded. “And surely many of those stories featured a Hero who fought against the evils that came to this land?” It was Impa’s turn to nod. “Link carries the blood of all those heroes. He’s the latest descendant of that lauded line.”

“And he’ll likely be the last if we don’t help him,” Ganondorf tacked on. “Of course, Hyrule will always have its heroes, but it’s not them that we’re concerned about right now.”

Impa looked between Nabooru and Ganondorf. “Where did you get the idea that Link is of the Heroes’ line?”

Ganondorf smiled, for he knew that Impa believed him and Nabooru. She was simply trying to maintain her remoteness. “My mothers politely informed me of this fact right after they ripped open my mind and dug out all of the buried memories of my more unsavory ancestors. They had hoped I would fall into the trap of rage and desire for power, and lead an assault on Hyrule.” Impa jerked in her chair. “If it hadn’t been for Nabooru, I would likely be sitting on King Daphnes’s throne right now and using Link’s skull as a chamber pot.”

“Yes, because crassness is going to win Lady Impa’s favor,” Nabooru snapped.

“No, it’s all right,” Impa cut in before Ganondorf could retaliate. “I appreciate your not dodging around the point.” She paused to take in a deep breath. “So you’re rebelling against your mothers’ wishes. That’s what you’re saying?” Ganondorf nodded. “And part of that is helping Link instead of going against him.”

“Precisely,” Nabooru replied. “It was my idea. I thought it would help Ganondorf to keep his own mind if he focused on befriending this generation’s Hero instead of fighting him. However, it still took several years to get to where he is now. It used to be that whenever I mentioned the Hero in passing, Ganondorf would rage for an hour.”

“Now,” Ganondorf picked up, “I can fight alongside him. We share bread and drink. He even took me up to Geota Gorge and tossed me into the winds up there, and the most I did was call him an idiot for it.”

Impa broke into chuckles at that, although they were short lived. “I’ve done worse than that to him for less,” she murmured. Her fingers traced one of the bow’s limbs. “We need to get that curse out of him. Without it, your mothers can’t use him, right?”

“That’s the plan,” Ganondorf confirmed.

“All right.” Impa sighed. “I believe you two, so you may see him. One at a time, however,” Impa added with an apologetic smile. “It’s Viscen’s rule, and there’s no need to make things complicated with him.”

Nabooru put a hand on Ganondorf’s upper arm. “You should see Link first. You’ll be able to tell us how he is just by looking at him, and he’ll be happy to see you. When you come back, let me know if it’s safe to go spirit walking into his mind, okay?”

Impa stood up when Ganondorf got to his feet. He smiled at the courtesy before leaving the room, and Impa dropped back into her seat. “Would you like some refreshments?” she asked Nabooru. “We have some Gerudian tea in the kitchens.”

“I actually prefer the Hylian varieties,” Nabooru replied. “Could we get some of that?” Impa nodded. “And perhaps you can tell me one of those heroic tales to pass the time. I can give you more details from the Gerudian texts to add to Princess Zelda’s stories.”

“She’s grown out of those, I’m afraid, but I can build up stock for any children she may have.” 

Nabooru smiled and patted Impa’s hand, for it had returned to tracing Link’s bow. The hand stilled, and Impa smiled back before rising to her feet to call on one of the castle help.

#

Viscen was a formidable man to his underlings, Ganondorf was sure, but he made no impression on the Gerudo king beyond irritation. He knew nothing of personal space either, as proven when he stepped up to stand toe-to-toe with Ganondorf. The urge to bite the captain’s long nose was hard to keep back.

“You won’t let me see him?” Ganondorf repeated. He eyed the other two guards who were positioned to either side of the dungeon’s door. “Have you forgotten who I am, Captain Viscen?”

“Yeah, I know who you are,” the captain snapped back. “You’re king of a spit of desert. You have no power here, _Lord_ Ganondorf, especially not in _my_ dungeon.”

Ganondorf sighed and folded his arms. “Do you really want to take this to the king?” he asked the captain. “Because I assure you, he’ll side with me. His daughter’s horse was bred under my direction, and given to her as a gift. That horse is of Gerudian stallion stock, and it’s worth more than a year of your pay. Oh, and don’t get me started on the jewels and artifacts my people gift to the Royal Family every year for their anniversary, or the waived tariffs whenever a merchant with a scrap of royal stationary comes through my gates.”

“Gifts don’t buy loyalty or preference,” Viscen countered. Despite his words, there was less bite in his voice already.

Ganondorf laughed and pushed the captain back two steps. “Money buys everything,” the Gerudo king said with confidence. “But the king and I are close companions as well. My second-in-command, Nabooru, was by the queen’s side during her difficult labor. Ah, I see that pulls a few strings.” Viscen had taken another step back. “Now where do you have my friend?”

The guard to the right of the door spoke up. “He’s in the solitary cells, my lord.”

Ganondorf’s eyes hardened. “You have him back there?” The solitary cells were used only in wartime; to prevent prisoners of war from influencing others with propaganda. They were small, dark, and damp. “Those cells aren’t fit for dogs, let alone people.”

Viscen raised his chin. “Well it’s a good thing the brat’s more of a monster than a person, then.” 

The urge to bite Viscen’s nose was replaced by the urge to punch it. “Step aside,” Ganondorf snapped. He pushed Viscen out of the way when the captain didn’t move fast enough. The guard who had spoken up opened the door with muttered deference. Ganondorf slammed it shut behind him, making the dungeons ring with the sound. 

Two turns down the dungeon’s main hall brought Ganondorf to a rusty door. A single guard was there. Ganondorf sent him away, and took a torch off the wall before walking into the room beyond the door.

There were ten solitary cells within it, five to each side. Link was in the farthest one on the left. Ganondorf carried his torch to the end of the room and lit the sconce on the wall there. It cast flickering light over Link’s cell, but it was still hard to see the Hylian. Not a scrap of blue showed through the black curse and blood stains on his tunic. It blended him into the shadows of the corner where he was crouched with his head ducked down between his bent knees. A rat ran along the edge of his cell and slipped through the bars. The walls were saturated with the odors of years-old misery and piss, and groundwater dripped from the ceiling to add to the puddles on the uneven floor.

Ganondorf leaned his arms on the crossbars of the cell and whistled. The laced fingers at the back of Link’s head tightened, and his pointed ears twitched, but he moved little else. The rat had already vanished into a hole in the wall. “Come on, little fish,” Ganondorf called when Link remained crouched. “I didn’t come all the way out to the castle just to be ignored.”

Link raised his head; his face was blotchy from tears, and bruises had bloated his face. Ganondorf beckoned him to the bars, but Link ducked his head again. There was as much anger in his posture as there was dejection. Both emotions mingled and permeated the air. 

Ganondorf banged on the bars, and Link’s ears twitched again. “I said come here. Should I take a page from Viscen’s book and treat you like a dog? Come, _now!”_ He whistled again, harsher, and watched in silence as Link finally got to his feet, using the wall of the cell as support. There appeared to be something wrong with the Hylian. He walked along the wall until he reached the bars, where he clung to them with shaking hands. 

Ganondorf reached through the bars and laid his hands against Link’s cheeks. The Hylian jerked away with his face contorted in tender pain. “Hold still,” Ganondorf commanded. Link obliged this time, and Ganondorf’s sorcery eased the bruising over the course of a minute. 

“Lift up your clothes,” Ganondorf ordered next. He crouched on his side of the bars and reached through them again as Link pulled up his tunic and undershirt. The bruising there was vivid, and spread over the whole of Link’s torso. Ganondorf laid a palm against it and heard Link whimper. “The guards did this to you?”

Ganondorf felt Link’s abdomen tense, likely with anger, before the Hylian slumped on his braced arms and shrugged. “You don’t have to protect them,” the Gerudo king told him. “I can’t do anything about it if you don’t admit to it.”

There was still a fair-sized smear of bruising left when Link shoved his clothes down and walked away from the bars. At the back of the cell, he folded his arms across his aching chest. His shoulders hurt as well. They burned like fire, and the pain was stretching up into his skull. It blurred his vision every now and then, but he wasn’t going to tell Ganondorf that. He wasn’t a child that needed protection.

Ganondorf spread his arms through the bars. “You’re not going to talk to me, Link?”

 _You’re not going to talk to me, Link?_ …Bleufarwe, _are you listening?_

Link returned, bowed his head, and pressed his forehead between two of the bars in front of Ganondorf. “Send me back.”

Link spoke so low that Ganondorf almost missed the words. “I don’t understand,” he replied with a frown.

Link ran a hand over his cheek. Ganondorf’s sorcery had taken care of the dried monster blood as well as the bruising there. “Back in The Fortress, you opened a way back into time, right? Open another one to my village and send me back. Let me die with my tribe instead of in this hole.”

Ganondorf shook his head. “I don’t have that kind of power, Link. A few necklaces, sure. But I can’t send people back and forth through time. You’re talking about the kind of power that the Goddess of Time has. No mortal has those abilities.”

Link closed his eyes against angry tears. Or were they tears for everything he had lost? He didn’t know anymore. “When we met the second time--you remember, when you fixed my arrows?” Ganondorf nodded. “You said we can be of use to each other. That means we can help each other.”

“You’re helping me more than you know,” Ganondorf replied. “But I can’t give you what you want. I’m incapable of it.”

Link raised his head and glared at Ganondorf. _“Then get me out of here!”_ he shouted. “You can do that much, right? You’re capable of that, right?” He was silenced by a hard slap across the face. 

“Now you listen to me,” Ganondorf began. He didn’t yell, or fall into his usual growl when someone was pushing him to his limit. He spoke in an even voice, and Link listened with his head bowed in shame. “You got yourself into this mess by letting your emotions dictate your actions instead of approaching things with a level head.” It was foolish to blame Link for a curse he couldn’t control, but the curse wouldn’t have spread as much if Link had maintained some amount of calm. “If you had kept your arrogance and contempt in line, you wouldn’t be caged like a Goddesses-damned animal. You would still be in Hyrule Field, free to go where you want.”

“Okay, I get it,” Link cut in, sounding defeated.

“No, you don’t,” Ganondorf retorted, and Link’s face grew stormy again. “Just because you’re free of the castle that doesn’t mean you’re above the law. Just because your tribe is dead that doesn’t mean you’re alone and have to do things on your own all the time. There are plenty of people who care about you. But they won’t cover for you forever. They have to think about themselves, too. Impa didn’t stop those soldiers from imprisoning and beating you because she has a reputation to maintain, and she knows you have to hit bottom if you’re going to bounce back.”

A short, hollow laugh left Link. “Well, I’ve hit bottom in all manners of the phrase.” He looked around at the dungeon walls, and despair crept into his face.

“Maybe now you’ll learn a few lessons,” Ganondorf finished. “You have to make compromises, Link. You’re selective about whom you talk to. Be just as selective in your worse behavior.”

Link dropped his forehead to the bars again. “I don’t mean to do bad things,” he murmured. “I do so much to try to help people when I attract monsters to them, but it goes from bad to worse more often than not.”

“Link, you do a lot more good than bad,” Ganondorf assured him. “Do you know that there used to be a division of soldiers dedicated to dealing with the monsters in Hyrule? Do you want to know when that division was eliminated? About four years ago, and by order of the king no less. Now those soldiers have safer jobs patrolling the town. See? You make a good difference. You’re a hero.” Saying the word in reference to Link sent a prickle up Ganondorf’s spine. 

“A hero doesn’t get people hurt or killed,” Link muttered. 

“It’ll get better, Link,” Ganondorf assured him. _“Eterta bowtan tewinta esti._ You just have to put some work into reaching for it.” He ruffled the Hylian’s hair and kissed the top of his head through the bars with a murmured Gerudian prayer. “I’ll talk to Impa about convincing Viscen to move you into a better cell. Just behave, defer to the soldiers, and I’m sure we can get you out of here in a short time. Nabooru wants to see you too, by the way. Is that all right?” Link nodded against the bars. “What about Impa?”

The second nod was more reluctant, but it came. “Okay,” Ganondorf said with his own nod. “That’s a good start to a new attitude, Link. I’ll see you later.” He turned to the left with the intention of leaving the solitary cells. Their poor conditions were starting to wear on him even though he had gone through worse in his training as a young Gerudo. He was stopped by Link’s hand when it reached out and snatched the hem of his shirt.

“Sit with me awhile,” Link begged. “Just a little bit. I’m so tired, but I don’t want to fall asleep alone in this place.”

“You haven’t slept a few nights?” Ganondorf guessed. Link shook his head before sliding down to the floor of his cell. Ganondorf lowered himself down against his side of the bars. He put his back to them in hopes that the heat of his body would stave off a bit of the damp for Link. It appeared to help, for Link dropped his side against the bars where Ganondorf’s back met them, and he was quiet for a while. The silence provided the Gerudo king with an opportunity to relax and fall into his thoughts.

Despite Ganondorf’s efforts, it seemed things were coming to a head between him and Link. Him and the Hero. Ganondorf had wanted to be different from his ancestors. He had wanted to live the life he chose instead of the one his bloodline commanded. Now he wondered if Link had suffered for that choice. In refusing to take hold of his destiny, did Ganondorf in turn affect the Hero? By not giving Link a reason to awaken into his destiny, did the Gerudo king leave the Regn Hylian to a troubled fate? 

Assuming that meant the Goddesses had allowed it to happen. That instead of forcing a confrontation between the Hero and the Dark Lord, they had _punished_ Link by cursing his life, and taking almost everything from him. Why, then, had they not punished Ganondorf? Or was this strain on his friendship with the Hero the punishment? Were the Goddesses trying to prove he and Link couldn’t be companions? That they were forced to fight for as long as their bloodlines persisted?

Ganondorf’s thoughts shifted, and he found himself looking on a strange sight. He stood on the wide lip of a massive, marble fountain. The Goddesses were carved into the fountain, but it was dry. Opposite Ganondorf, Link stood on the lip with a blade against an outstretched arm. The Gerudo king felt pressure against his abdomen, and he looked down to find Link was now in front of him, staring up with fierce, blue eyes and holding a shining blade against the Gerudo king’s stomach. Time waited on tenterhooks.

“Ganondorf.”

“Mmmm?” Ganondorf opened his eyes. Was he sleeping just now? It certainly felt like it. In fact, his eyelids insisted that he close them again. They had something important to show him--namely the soothing black of their insides.

“Ganondorf,” Link whispered again in the Gerudo king’s ear. “Let me out.”

“Can’t do that,” Ganondorf mumbled. His chin touched his chest and jerked up again. 

“Go on,” Koume whispered in the other ear. 

Kotake added, “You know you want to.”

“What’d I tell you, Link?” Ganondorf asked. “Just behave, and you’ll be out soon.”

“But it’s so much more fun to _mis_ behave, isn’t it?” Link whispered. His hands swept over Ganondorf’s shoulders and moved down his chest. Or were they a woman’s hands? “Let me out and I’ll show you,” Nabooru’s voice teased. Her (His? Their?) hands traced a line across the exposed clavicle above Ganondorf’s collar. “We’ll leave this place and be pariahs together. We could get into all kinds of trouble.”

Why was Nabooru speaking Hylian if she was alone with him? Ganondorf had to ask her. He opened his eyes and turned around to look through the bars. The cell was empty. No… Why would Nabooru be in a cell in the first place? And where were his mothers? They had spoken too. And so had--

“Link!” Ganondorf shouted, rising to his feet. He put a hand around a bar for stability, and it moved beneath his hand as the door it was a part of swung open; the lock was disengaged. Ganondorf smelled the keyhole and detected the lingering scent of his sorcery. His nose also picked up fresh air, which stood out against the damp, sour odor of the solitary cells like white against black. He followed it to a portion of the wall where a jagged line of sunlight peeked between the stones, tracing the line of the mortar. 

An experimental push to the light’s left revealed a loose portion of the wall that broke away as a makeshift door. It opened onto the underside of the drawbridge that spanned the moat in front of the castle’s main entrance. It was an old passage, and likely forgotten by most. But Ganondorf had a feeling an adventurous princess and her equally daring friend had found it sometime during their shared childhood.

Ganondorf closed the passage and punched the wall above it. A roar of rage left his lips. He could recall the conversation now, seductive whispers and all. This was more of his mothers’ work. They couldn’t even resist adding their own voices into the mix. 

The door to the solitary cells banged open while Ganondorf was still cursing himself for being duped. “What’s going on?” Viscen’s voice snapped. Ganondorf turned around to face him, and he saw the captain’s eyes widen at the open cell door. They shifted to the Gerudo king soon enough. _“You!_ You let him out!”

“How long have I been down here?” Ganondorf rushed to ask.

“That’s not impor--”

“An hour, my lord,” the younger guard who was with Viscen replied. “Honestly, we forgot you were down here until we just heard you yell.”

Viscen’s face was the color of a Hylia apple. There was even a lighter spot on the tip of his nose where the angry flush didn’t quite reach. Ganondorf didn’t give him the chance to make any more accusations. “Link used sorcery to put me to sleep and escape. You need to have your men make a sweep of the grounds and town. I doubt he’s still here, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. In the meantime, send out horsemen to search the field.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job!” Viscen snapped.

There was no time for flexing muscles. “Link is a lit bomb,” Ganondorf snapped back. “Get your men out there and find him before he explodes.” He left the captain with that and returned to Impa’s study. The climb to the room felt like it took ages, especially as Ganondorf had to stop by the kitchens first. Impa and Nabooru jumped in their seats when he burst into the room.

Nabooru put down her cup of tea. “What took you so long? We’ve--”

“Link escaped,” Ganondorf announced. “My mothers worked through him to make me break him out.” He put the shallow bowl he had carried from the kitchen down onto Impa’s desk. “Hand me that, will you?” He gestured at the teapot on the opposite edge of Impa’s desk. She stood up to grab it and hand it to him. Ganondorf poured water from it into the shallow bowl until the level came to just below the bowl’s lip. “Let it settle,” he ordered, and the women backed their chairs away from the desk. Ganondorf, in the meantime, fell to pacing the width of the study.

“A scrying bowl,” Impa realized. “Is this how you’ve been watching Link?”

“Along with my own sorcery,” Ganondorf confirmed. “But I can’t use that right now. My mothers went so far as to force Link to do their bidding. I have to assume any direct sorcery I use in connection to him will be detected and used against me.”

Nabooru inched closer to check on the stillness of the bowl. “He can’t have gone far in less than an hour.”

“Epona is fast,” Impa said. “And Link knows Hyrule Field as well as he knows this castle and its grounds. He would have gotten out undetected, and he’ll find someplace to hole up.”

Nabooru frowned. “It’s ready,” she announced with a wave at the bowl. Ganondorf joined the two women at the desk. His dark hands traced a complicated symbol over the water’s surface, and ripples fanned across it. They settled into a bird’s eye view of Hyrule Field. Ganondorf traced another symbol, and the view drew closer to the ground. 

“There!” Impa pointed to a space between the boughs of two trees. Ganondorf traced yet another symbol after her finger was out of the way. The view dropped lower and shifted angles to look beneath the trees. “Epona,” Impa said, unnecessarily. The mare was alone beneath one of the trees. A rock formation hid her from the view of passersby in the field. “Shouldn’t Link be there too?”

Ganondorf hummed a thoughtful sound. “He might have gone underground--and I mean that literally. The scrying bowl can only view things on the surface. I can’t send its eye belowground.”

Nabooru straightened up and sighed. “Grottos are pretty common throughout Hyrule. There’s probably one beneath that tree.”

“He really did hole up,” Ganondorf remarked with a weak smile. Impa shot him a hard look. “No, this is good. My mothers wouldn’t have sent him underground, even with all of Hyrule’s soldiers on his heels. Link’s in his own mind right now. I’ll go to him and--”

“No,” Nabooru cut in with a shake of her head. “Now is not the best time.”

“She’s right,” Impa agreed. “Let the soldiers fail to find him first. Once there aren’t eyes everywhere, we can go to him together.”

Ganondorf braced his arms against the table and dropped his head. “It would be better to bring Link under our control as soon as possible.”

“Ganondorf, he needs more than control,” Nabooru said. “He needs some time to collect himself. He’ll be more willing to listen to us when he isn’t panicked or angry.”

Ganondorf bared his teeth. “The time for talking and listening is drawing closer and closer to an end!” he shouted with a hard punch against the table. The scrying bowl jumped and spilled a trickle of water down its side; the image of Hyrule Field vanished.

Nabooru pushed a finger against Ganondorf’s chest. He took three steps back beneath its gentle pressure, and he dropped his eyes when Nabooru began to speak in hard Gerudian. “Go ahead then, my lord. Go out there and confront Link with both of yourselves riled up. I bet your mothers will sit back and congratulate each other on a job well done as you two become enemies in each others’ eyes. Seven years of hard work will go to pot all because you wouldn’t listen to Impa and me. Do you want that?” 

“No,” Ganondorf mumbled. 

“Then get control of yourself!” Nabooru snapped in Hylian, and Ganondorf winced. Under Nabooru’s continued glare, the Gerudo king closed his eyes and took several calming breaths. Nabooru nodded in approval when he opened his eyes. “That’s better,” she remarked. Okay, bring the scrying bowl back around. You can keep an eye on Link while Impa and I take charge of the soldiers on the hunt for him. We’ll do our best to make sure they don’t stumble over him.”

“You can reach me through the gossip stone if anything changes,” Impa added.

“All right,” Ganondorf agreed. He returned to the scrying bowl to wait for it to settle, and Impa and Nabooru departed the room.

#

Groundwater dripped from the dirt ceiling, feeding the pools scattered about the grotto’s sandy floor. Link looked around at the similarities to his cell, and he shuddered. He was seated cross-legged by one of the pools with Kara on his folded knee. The guay didn’t like being underground; Link could feel her apprehension. She had already pecked at him once when he tried to stroke a soothing finger down her back. Now she fluttered from knee to shoulder and back down again in a nervous dance. 

Kara wanted to fly, but Link couldn’t allow it. A smart soldier could follow her to his hiding place. It was one of many, chosen for times when he needed to get away from the overstimulation of Hyrule Field, or from pursuers. But there was only one way in or out of the grotto, and it wouldn’t take much to trap Link and overpower him within it.

Link still couldn’t remember drawing the soldiers’ ire by escaping from the castle’s dungeons. He only knew he was on the run. He had come back to himself with Castle Town a mile behind him, and Epona panting beneath him. He had first stopped and checked her for injuries before walking her another two miles to the concealed grotto. Kara had followed shortly after; she brought a shiny button with her that Link had stuffed out of sight in hasty guilt.

The keese above and behind Link fluttered and squeaked from their roosts on the ceiling. Kara didn’t like them at all, but Link knew they wouldn’t bother him or the guay so long as the two of them kept quiet. Link offered Kara a palm, and she hopped onto it. He raised her to eyelevel and studied her. “You’ve grown,” he remarked. Kara studied him back with one of her shiny eyes. “Can you say my name? Say ‘Link’.”

Kara fluttered her wings and looked away. She could be moody. Link deposited her on a root that curved out of the wall before he lay down and stretched out by the pool of water. If he narrowed his focus, he could pretend it was Lake Helvus spread out in front of his eyes. The practice eased him into a light sleep that carried him to morning. 

Epona’s distant, nervous neigh woke Link up. After recognizing the grotto around him, he snapped to his feet. Kara, perched on his hip, fluttered up onto his shoulder once he was vertical. The grotto’s entrance was a short climb up through the overhead tree’s roots. Link emerged from beneath the ground, put his back to the tree’s trunk, and scanned what he could see of Hyrule Field beyond the rock formation. 

Link spied Epona a fair distance away, out in the open despite the rain falling from the cloudy sky. He made to whistle for her, but stopped when he spied two old women to his left. They were a mere thirty feet away, and were staring at him with almost hungry eyes. They looked identical with only small differences--namely their preference in jewels. Their clothing suggested Gerudian roots. Link eyed them warily. The rain wasn’t wetting them.

“Hello, boy,” one of the women greeted. Her fellow chuckled. “We hope you had a good sleep.” 

The other woman ceased her laughter. “Too bad for you the nightmare is only just beginning.”

“Who are you?” Link asked. He took a step away from the tree. He wished Epona was beside him, or that he had a weapon in hand. The Gerudian women had a strange air about them that sent shivers up his spine. His shoulders panged with each one.

The women exchanged a look. “I am Koume,” said the one who wore rubies.

“And I am Kotake,” the other replied, dressed in sapphires. “We are Ganondorf’s mothers.”

_Can I meet them?_

_No. They want to kill you._

A trickle of fear raised the hairs on the back of Link’s neck, but he couldn’t let the women see he knew of their intentions. He remained steady on his feet, and he kept his eyes forward. Yet something… Something tugged at the back of his mind. Their faces were almost familiar, as were their voices…

“Of course you don’t remember, but we’ve met already,” Koume said. She laughed when Link frowned in confusion. “Yes. When we laid a little curse in you.”

 _Go. Now._ It was foolish to engage with these women when Link knew they had only ill intentions for him. He could outrun them; he was much younger. Epona was even faster. He could leave them behind in her dust. Link shifted his foot into the first step away from the Gerudian women. It moved an inch and stopped.

“Hold still,” Kotake ordered. She had her open palm out and facing Link as it to ward him off. 

Kara took off with a frightened chirp as Link’s back tightened with agonizing slowness. It felt as if each vertebra was being twisted in place. He cried out as his body rose up onto the balls of his feet. The feet soon left the ground completely. He was hovering in place a few inches above the grass. His arms were useless and stiff at his sides. He clenched his teeth against a second scream when the twisting tightness entered his skull.

Koume waved a dismissive hand. “Stop playing with him, Kotake.” 

Kotake dropped her hand, and Link dropped as well. He landed hard on his stomach and lay there gasping for breath while tears of pain dropped from his eyes. He tried to stand, but stopped when a feeling of splintered wood drove into his spine with the movement. He cried out again and clenched at the wet ground to ride out the pain. Even the raindrops falling on his back drew stabs of agony.

“I think he’s ready,” Koume said next. Her sister nodded. “Should we test him out first?”

Kotake nodded again. “Yes, and I know just the place. That little village with the two children he cares about.”

Link raised his head. Village? Two children? That could be Ordon or Izumi. He wanted it to be neither. Link braced a hand against the ground and pushed himself up. His spine screamed its insistence that he remain still. He fought against the pain even as his teeth drew blood from the lip they were biting. 

Koume’s foot pressed down against Link’s upper back, and he dropped beneath her weight. “Listen to me, boy,” she ordered, and Link neither heard nor saw anything for a long while after that. 

##########

**Translations:**

**All of the following is Sheikan.**

_“Fini mide daeg.”:_ “Good day.”

 _“…Sagena hametheh.”:_ “Say something.”

 _“…E giefea praeow.”:_ “It’s my gift to you.”

 _“Quis sagent e punctgam ic haben?”:_ “Who said I have a point to prove?”

 _“…ic promite.”:_ “…I promise.”

 _“…Placare meistre! Salva min! Placare! Placare! Meistre, loconin min placare!”:_ “Please master! Help me! Please! Please! Master, look at me please!”

 _“Brun dun,”:_ “Calm down,”


	20. Attack of the Helmaroc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The curse incubating within Link is released, and it is up to his friends and family to save him from himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are at the last few chapters of this story. I hope you enjoy the bits of action within them. I did my best to write it, although action isn't my strongest suit.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you!

# -Blue Arrow-

### Attack of the Helmaroc

_As wonderful as the Gerudo were when it came to cooking in Ganondorf’s stronghold, they couldn’t compare to the sights, smells, and tastes of The Fortress’s marketplace. The amount of activity had few equals as well. More than once, the Gerudo king had to pull his Regn Hylian companion close when the crowd threatened to swallow him up. And knowing Link, he would be lost for a while should that happen._

_“Here, try these.” Ganondorf stopped Link in front of a produce stall and paid for two fruits that--by the look on his face--Link had never seen before. The fruits were oblong, as large as mangoes, and topped with a short, thick stem. Their rind was spiny, and colored a vivid green. The Gerudo king handed one of the two to Link. “This is a Lanayru dragon pear,” he explained while Link turned the fruit over in his hands. “Take hold of the stem and twist.”_

_Link held the fruit firm in one hand and gave its stem a hard twist with the other. The rind split away at the top in a spiraled pattern, leaving behind four loose ends much like a banana peel. The flesh of the underlying fruit was a bright yellow pockmarked by countless small, brown seeds._

_“Good, right?” Ganondorf asked after Link had taken a tentative first bite. The young man’s eyes widened a little, and he replied with an eager nod. “All right. Come here, there’s something else I want you to see. If you’re going to be spending any time in The Fortress, you_ have _to know your way around to all the best places.”_

Ganondorf opened his eyes at the clatter of a tray against Impa’s desk. He expected it to be one of the castle help, so to see Princess Zelda pouring hot water into a teacup was quite the surprise. Ganondorf straightened in his chair and looked to see if the scrying bowl was changed. No, it showed the same as always--Epona, asleep on her feet beneath a tree. The dark of night was replaced by the morning light, and a rain had started. That same rain was reflected outside the study’s windows.

“Looks like a grey day today in more ways than one,” Zelda remarked. Ganondorf cast her a wary eye. “Impa told me everything,” the princess explained. The hot water was sending the tea leaves’ aroma around the room. “It’s terrible being a princess sometimes,” she continued after the tea had started to steep. “I was stuck with my parents for most of the day in diplomatic business. When I was finally free, Link was already gone.”

“You didn’t want to see him like that anyway, my lady,” Ganondorf said. “He was in terrible shape.”

Zelda handed a teacup to Ganondorf, which he accepted with murmured thanks. “I held him dead in my arms mere days ago. There will never be anything worse than that. So long as Link’s alive, there’s a chance for him to get better.” She took a seat in one of the empty chairs with her own cup. Her eyes went to the bow still on Impa’s desk. “You got him a new bow? It’s nice.”

“Do you shoot?” Ganondorf asked. He tried the tea. It was a Gerudian brew that reminded him of home. Nabooru had returned to The Fortress last night in his stead. He had spent the night in Impa’s chair, reminiscing and watching the scrying bowl. For once, he missed his bed.

Zelda nodded. “My bow isn’t as fine as this, but it’s made of Kakariko redwood, which from what I’ve been told is one of the best bow woods.”

“It is,” Ganondorf said. “It’s equal to Gerudian _maclura,_ which is this bow here. The only difference is Kakariko redwood is a lot more common. It’s what we Gerudo use nowadays for our weapons--thanks to your kingdom’s generosity.”

“There’s no need to flatter me or my kingdom,” Zelda told him. Ganondorf smiled and bowed his head in deference. “Impa told me a tale about Kakariko redwood,” the princess picked up. Ganondorf recognized the start of idle chatter. Coupled with the clenched fingers around Zelda’s cup, the Gerudo king guessed the princess was far more worried than she was letting on. “She told me that the trees get their dark red color from all of the blood that stained the ground of Hyrule during the civil wars. The trees soak it up like they do water. But that never made sense to me, because the last wars were centuries ago. Surely by now all of the blood has been soaked up?”

Ganondorf shrugged a shoulder. “I couldn’t say, Princess Zelda. We Gerudo have our myths and tales as well. For instance, an ocean once lay where our desert is now. There’s proof of this--fish fossils and such--but as to how it became that way is a point of contention. Legend says the ocean was ruined by the Goddesses as punishment for a group of people who attempted to challenge them. These people built a great stone tower of blasphemous design to reach the heavens. Before they could finish, the Goddesses smashed the tower into the millions of pieces of sand that buried the ocean in a desert.”

“Were those people the Gerudo?” Zelda asked.

“Hard to say. As I told Link, the Gerudo were once a seafaring race ages ago. Perhaps they grew tired of wandering and relying on the sea winds. Maybe they settled somewhere, grew resentful of the Goddesses, and tried to do something about it.”

“But you have your own Goddess, don’t you? The desert one…”

“Serhanaka, as she’s commonly known,” Ganondorf provided. “A Goddess from ages past--something to give the Gerudo a focus when they have none. Most of my people identify more with Din, Nayru, and Farore nowadays. I count myself amongst them, but it’s good to remember your roots as well. That’s why there’s a Serhanaka idol in my chambers, and dragons entwined with the Triforce pieces _tataued_ on my back. Serpents of all types are associated with Serhanaka.”

Zelda shook her head in wonder. “I didn’t learn any of this in my schooling. How am I supposed to be a queen if I don’t even know the basics of my allies’ cultures?” She sounded irritated. 

Ganondorf waved a hand to dismiss Zelda’s worries. “You do as you’re doing now--you ask questions. Link did the same thing when he spent those two-odd months in The Fortress. I couldn’t satisfy his curiosity fast enough.”

A fond smile came to Zelda’s lips. “He’s always been curious. I think that’s why he was able to learn so much under Master Rusl. He knows things about monsters and animals that I’ve never heard.” The smile faltered when Zelda’s eyes glanced at the scrying bowl. “Where did Epona go?”

Ganondorf put aside his teacup and stood up to better look into the scrying bowl. His hands broadened the view, and he sucked in a harsh breath when he saw two familiar witches standing in the rain. Epona had fled them, leaving Link to emerge from the grotto alone with only his pet guay on his shoulder.

“No. No, no…” Zelda covered her mouth with her hands as Kotake tortured Link. “Lord Ganondorf, can’t you stop them? Please!”

Ganondorf closed his eyes. “It’s too late. We have to let things play out now. They’ll have Link become my ally in an attempt to persuade me to take over Hyrule.”

“Will you…? I mean…” Zelda took a wary step back.

Ganondorf shook his head. “No. Nabooru and I will help him once we get him close enough to us.  
We’ll just have to play along for a while, but things will be all right. I promise you that, my lady.” He pointed at the bowl. “Look, he’s getting to his feet.”

Zelda leaned closer and watched along with Ganondorf as Link rose to his feet to take up a stance with a bowed head. Koume appeared to be saying something to him. She waved her hand once, and Ganondorf heard the princess yelp in surprise. He looked at her and watched as she reached for the bow on the desk. It was vanishing into thin air. The princess’s hands closed around a limb for a brief second before the bow disappeared entirely. She yelped again, and pulled her hand back as if she was burned. 

“What is it?” Ganondorf pressed. In the scrying bowl, the bow appeared in Koume’s hand. 

“I… I saw what they’re planning to do with him,” Zelda replied. She had a shaken look in her eyes. “They’re testing him out as if he’s some new weapon. They’re taking him to a village and…” She closed her eyes.

“What village?” Ganondorf asked. “Princess Zelda, what village?”

#

There was a lot of seeing and sawing from the grownups before finally, _finally,_ they agreed that yes, the children could go out and play in the rain. It was a victory that brought cheers and laughter, and now Kukiel stalked her prey in the midst of the gentle rainfall. She circled puddles as she sneaked along a fence, all the while on the lookout. A villager who was passing by shot Kukiel a look and rubbed his nose with a subtle finger that pointed towards an empty cart. Kukiel smiled and nodded in thanks before making her way towards the cart.

Kukiel was three steps away from discovering her first target when a familiar neigh drew her attention. She turned around and gasped in surprise when she saw Epona ride into the village at a fast clip. The mare was halted in the middle of the houses, and her rider looked around the area as if in search of something. 

“Onii-san!” Kukiel called. She waved when Link looked to her. 

“Onii-san?” Colin’s head peeked out from above the cart’s lip. “Isn’t that what you call--” His eyes spied the rider. _“Link!_ Neve! Sakura! Link’s here!” Colin scrambled out of the cart while from behind the general store and the water wheel house, Sakura and Neve ran out. 

Kukiel was already walking up to Link. She wanted to run, but she didn’t want to startle Epona; the mare was already pawing a hoof, and shaking her head with flashes of teeth. Kukiel wondered if Uli had invited Link as well, much like she had invited Malon, Shad, and her and Sakura. They had all become good friends through Malon, but this was the first time Link would be joining them all at once. It was a pleasant surprise. Kukiel had to remember to thank Uli later for it.

There was something different about Onii-san today, however. His tunic, for one, was all black, and there was a look in his bloodshot eyes that went beyond sleepiness. Kukiel once saw Malon drug a horse before for surgery. Onii-san had much the same look in his eyes. Perhaps he would cheer up once he was inside with everyone and sharing breakfast with them.

“Onii-san!” Kukiel called again after coming to a stop some distance from Epona, who snorted with flat ears. Sakura joined her, as well as Colin and Neve. “Miss Uli didn’t tell us she invited you! Is it a surprise?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Neve whispered from behind Sakura. Link was looking at the children, but it was as if he didn’t recognize them. Ordon Village appeared just as strange to his searching eyes. Epona reared a little, neighing, and the children collectively took a step back. Link’s response was to tug sharply on her reins.

“I think we should get my mom,” Colin suggested in a low voice. 

“No, wait,” Sakura spoke up. “Maybe he’s just tired. I bet he rode a long way.” Despite her apprehension in the face of the agitated horse, she stepped closer to Epona. “Onii-san, we’re glad to--” Sakura’s welcome broke off into a gasp when Link notched a lightning-quick arrow and drew it with the point aimed at her head. 

Neve and Kukiel both screamed. Kukiel tried to pull Sakura away; she was paralyzed in fear and shock. Colin, in the meanwhile, moved around to put himself in front of her. He did his best to show courage as he looked along the arrow to Link’s face. The Regn Hylian smirked and adjusted his aim a little higher to match Colin’s taller stature. Epona stomped a back hoof.

Colin swallowed a knot in his throat. “Link, what are you doing? Don’t you know who I am?” His throat felt so dry. “Come on, stop playing games. What would my dad think of you if he saw this?” Something flickered in Link’s eyes, and for a moment Colin thought he saw another Link in them who was struggling to return. 

The adults had heard the girls’ screams, and came running out of Uli’s house. Shad bolted down the hill to where the children stood in a tight, quivering group. He pushed them back and spread his arms. “Link!” he called in a desperate voice. “What in the Goddesses’ names do you think you’re doing?” 

Link’s answer was a pained grimace, and the arrow was released. It cut through Shad’s shirt and embedded itself into the ground inches from Neve’s foot. She screamed again and took off for her mother, who was rushing to meet her. Malon ran ahead of Uli, heading for the remaining three children. 

Epona reared and dropped with a harsh chuff. Her breath flicked Shad’s hair back. “Link!” Shad tried again. Link had the same look of danger in his eyes as he had shown in The Milk Bar after his fight. Shad had thought Link became a different person at that time, and he had the same thought now. But this was _Link_ either way. Surely he could be reasoned with? “Link, look at me, my friend. Listen to my voice. I’m not here to hurt you, and you don’t want to hurt me or the kids, right?” 

Link drew a second arrow. Strange. His hands were shaking. A voice much like his own was in his head, screaming over and over. He blinked to clear the fog that had come over his eyes as he took aim once more. He had to do this. Everything that had happened to him in the past several months had their roots right here with these children--Kukiel and Sakura especially. His life was a good one until they pushed themselves into it. Now he cared too much, and he was suffering for it--just as he’d warned himself. 

_We have to break these foolish ties we’ve made._

_No, no! Stop it! They’re my friends, they’re my friends!_

_You were manipulated so easily, boy. I thought you had learned from me._

_Link, you can’t do this!_

Why wasn’t he releasing his arrow right away? He’d had plenty of time in the past two minutes to pepper the children and the bystanders with arrows. And he had missed with the only arrow he had shot so far. That was strange. He never missed.

“Link?” a voice called from behind Link. He spun in his saddle and brought his notched arrow to bear on the other side. A gasp stuttered from his lips. It couldn’t be… Aryll? Her voice was in his head, along with many others, yet here she stood in front of him. Alive.

“Relax,” Aryll pleaded. She raised her hands in a calming gesture. “You’re not yourself.”

“Malon, get away,” Shad hissed to his fiancée. The children were safe with Uli and another villager, but Malon had placed herself within five feet of Epona’s snapping teeth and sharp hooves. Shad wanted to run around the horse to Malon’s side, but he was afraid any sudden movements would prompt Link to loosen his arrow, or startle Epona into a charge.

Malon ignored Shad. “Whatever’s wrong, Link, we can help you with it,” she continued.

Aryll was always concerned for him. Link blinked tears from his eyes. Most of the voices in his head had stopped screaming for the moment. Now only one spoke, deep and old. _Put the bow down,_ it whispered. _You can’t do this. You’ll never forgive yourself for it. It will be Silbarine all over again, only at your hand instead of my teeth. Now put the bow down. This is those witches’ fault, not yours. This isn’t you. You don’t kill friends._

Whatever Malon was doing, she was having an effect. Shad watched Link’s shoulders relax a small amount. The arrowhead, once pointed at Malon’s heart, now shifted to the side. “Good, Link,” Shad spoke up. He used the same calming voice that Malon had adopted. “We’re here to help you, my friend. Malon and I, the girls Sakura and Kukiel, Colin, Neve, and Uli--we all care about you. You don’t want to hurt us, and we would never hurt you, so just put the bow aside.”

“He’s right, Link,” Aryll said. “Just relax.”

_Hey, Link, just relax okay? I’m going to get you some medicine for that fever._

_Link, come on--relax. You’ll get better. Four minutes is a lot longer than I could hold my breath at your age._

_Kiddo, you have to relax. The fish aren’t going to bite if you’re jerking the rod around._

Link relaxed the bowstring, and then himself. He put the arrow away in his quiver, and secured the bow with his saddlebags. What was he going to do just now? Shoot Malon? No. Impossible. What had come over him? Why would he do that? How--

“Well, this is just pathetic.”

Twin bursts of magic sent Shad and Malon flying away with mirrored cries. Epona reared, and Link slid out of the saddle when his limbs turned into jelly. He dropped to the ground and lay flat on his stomach while his mare galloped out of Ordon Village. He couldn’t move, he could barely take in a breath, and his thoughts were spinning again. The screaming, pleading voice called from the back of his mind as anger and shadow overtook him once more.

“He shouldn’t have shed our sorcery so easily,” Koume remarked as she appeared out of thin air in a cloud of smoke and ash. 

“It’s the rain,” Kotake said in sudden realization after appearing in a cloud of frosty air. “His tribe has connections to water.”

“Then playtime is over?” Koume guessed.

“Yes,” her sister agreed. “Not even a downpour will stop our curse.”

Somehow, through some buried strength, Link had rose onto his hands and knees. The rain had drenched him, and it mingled with the sweat on his brow. He felt nauseous and furious all at once. It was a terrible feeling, like in the midst of a fever. Where was Aryll? She said she was going to bring him medicine.

There were people screaming Link’s name. He couldn’t hear them. The sound of a thousand beating wings was in his ears. He screamed, and a circle of purple symbols bloomed beneath his hands and knees. It spread out, spinning, as something ripped down his back. He screamed again. There was a maddening, itching sensation over every inch of his skin. He forced his eyes open and gasped when he saw his sleeves. Why were they black? What had happened to the proud blue of his tunic? To the protective markings on his undershirt’s hems? The itching was getting worse. Was it his changed clothes that were causing it?

Link clenched his teeth and pulled at one of his sleeves. It ripped enough under his strength to reveal a pattern of feathers against his skin. He recognized his _tatau_ but… No, it was never this large before. What was happening?

“Stubborn, isn’t he?” Koume remarked from somewhere beyond Link’s pain.

“His blood is strong,” Kotake reminded her sister. “He is the Hero, and he carries his tribe’s legacy as well--not to mention that Dark Wolfos’s.”

Koume laughed in delight. “What a strong ally you’ll be!” 

“I’m glad we didn’t kill him,” Kotake said to her sister over Link’s screams. “Ganny had the right idea--the brat’s far more useful alive than dead. But he didn’t understand what he had in his hands. We’ll show him what can be if he wasn’t so soft-hearted.”

“Boy, don’t worry!” Koume called, cackling. “You wanted a way to rise above your grief, and we’re going to give it to you!”

Between screams, Link was sucking in as many breaths as he could, as deeply as he could, yet they felt as if they weren’t reaching his lungs. The witches’ cackling and taunts crashed against his ears. He closed his eyes against them, but the glow of the magic circle forced his eyes open again. It brightened beneath him, blinding his eyes with its harsh light, but not before he saw the pattern on his skin rise up as true feathers. He screamed a final time and heard the sound warp into a harsher screech.

#

There was no sign of the brat anywhere! A few hoof prints in the mud, but they could have belonged to any traveler. Viscen’s scowl deepened with each wet mile passed without a sighting. Hyrule Castle had already disappeared behind the gray wall of rain. Just how far was he and his men supposed to search?

One of the four soldiers with Viscen called out, “Captain!” The shout was punctuated by a dark shadow that passed over the group. The beat of heavy wings came after a second’s delay. Viscen looked up, and his scowl dropped into shock. 

“It’s heading for town!” a different soldier shouted. He appeared to be right. The shadow was following the road to the castle. 

Viscen came to a quick decision. “Forget the brat!” he snapped at his men. “Our duty to the castle and Royal Family comes first!” He spurred his horse forward in the wake of the shadow. It was much faster than the soldiers, but they followed unfalteringly; tense in their saddles for what would be an inevitable battle.

#

Impa rushed into her study and stopped short of her desk to avoid disturbing the scrying bowl. “I’ve dispatched men to Ordon Village, and I’ve increased the guard around Castle Town and the grounds. I don’t know what you’re expecting, though.”

“Me neither,” Ganondorf answered without looking up. He was marking symbols over the scrying bowl, yet nothing was clearing the white fog that had overtaken the view. “I’ve had only a few glimpses.”

“Such as?” Zelda asked from the window. Impa’s study offered a view of the front gardens and the road to the town. Zelda was keeping an eye on it all out of restlessness. She jumped a little whenever thunder cracked overhead. The rain was escalating into a storm.

“I saw those kids he’s fond of,” Ganondorf replied. “He was about to shoot them, but stopped. I saw the ranch girl and her fiancé, too. I think they were trying to talk him down, and he appeared to be listening.”

“So this means he’s fighting the curse, right?” Impa asked.

Ganondorf dropped his head with a sigh. “My mothers interrupted them. Since then, I haven’t had a clear image in over fifteen minutes. A lot can happen in that amount of time when those vultures are involved.”

“Impa!” Zelda called, and the Sheikah woman walked over to her. “Your eyes are better than mine. What is that?”

Impa wiped condensation from the window and leaned towards the glass. “Hard to say with this rain,” she murmured. “Is it a bird? Or a dragon?”

“What are you seeing?” Ganondorf asked. The scrying bowl showed nothing. He abandoned it to look out the study’s second window. What had caught Zelda’s attention caught his soon enough. There was a black smear in the midst of the gray rain, and it was growing larger with each sweep of its oblong shape. Soon, two smaller smears of black appeared alongside it. By then, the shape of the larger smear was clear. Ganondorf felt three different tugs on his soul.

“My mothers,” he announced. “And Link as well.”

Zelda looked to him. “That thing is…?”

“I expected the curse to change him,” Ganondorf said with a shake of his head. “But not like this. That’s a helmaroc--an ancient bird that hasn’t been around since the Gerudo desert ceased being an ocean. Our texts talk of it as if it was mere legend.”

“What do we do?” Zelda asked.

Both Impa and Ganondorf gave the same reply. “We fight.”

“But that’s Link!” Zelda cried as her nurse and the Gerudo king stepped away from the windows. “What if you hurt him?”

“What if he hurts us?” Impa returned. “Or the people of Hyrule? We can’t risk all of those lives for one person, my princess. I’m sorry.” The crack in her words spoke her pain clearer than she could say. “I’m sure Link would understand. Lord Ganondorf, I must secure the princess and her parents. Please gather the men together for attack. Tell them you speak for me, and they’ll listen. Princess Zelda, come with me.”

Impa took hold of Zelda’s hand, but she yanked it free. “No, Impa!” the princess snapped. “I’m going into battle. Link is my friend, and I won’t cower and hide while he’s suffering. If he’s to be hurt, I need to be there to witness it. Especially if it’s to protect Hyrule.”

Impa shook her head. “And what would happen if you were to fall? Hyrule needs its princess.”

“My parents can have other children,” Zelda countered.

Something appeared to snap in Impa’s face, and she nearly screamed, “Your mother had a hard enough time birthing you! How dare you suggest she should carry the burdens of both your death and another heir!”

“Lord Ganondorf, please back me on this,” Zelda said to the Gerudo king.

Ganondorf was smart enough to know not to get into the middle of such a fight; he shook his head. “I have orders to carry out, my lady. Whatever decision you two come to, make it quick. My mothers will be here in minutes.” He left the room, already barking commands to the men stationed at the end of the hall. 

In her study, Impa raised a finger and braced her other hand on her hip. Zelda recognized the old, scolding stance from her days as a child under the Sheikah woman’s care. “I am securing you along with your parents, and nothing you say will sway my mind.”

“Am I to learn nothing of battle?” Zelda countered. “Just as I know nothing about the Gerudo? Perhaps I should go to The Fortress for two months if I’m to learn anything!”

“You will not!” Impa said, and her voice, usually calm, broke a little. The raised finger dropped, and grief darkened her face. “I have kept you safe and secure all of your life, and I will continue to do so until my last breath!”

Zelda reached out and cupped Impa’s hand. She held her nurse’s gaze as she replied, “That last breath may come before mine. Would you leave me ignorant, Impa? Would you leave me unable to defend my kingdom, or even make decisions for myself?”

Impa closed her eyes and raised a hand to her forehead. “Why do I feel like I’ve had this conversation before?” she murmured with a shake of her head.

Zelda smiled thinly. “If a teenager half out of his mind with grief could convince you to loosen your hold, surely I have a better chance?” She looked at her hands. Impa was squeezing her fingers. “Let me go, Impa. I must be a part of this.”

Impa dropped her hand and turned away from Zelda. A tear traced a shining line down her dark cheek. She wiped it away and lifted her arms in a brief gesture of defeat. “I’m going to lose you both.”

“You haven’t lost anything yet,” Zelda reminded her nurse. “Let’s keep it that way.”

#

Above the castle, the helmaroc was flying in restless circles. It was accompanied by two witches who were on the lookout for one particular person amongst the gathering army far below. In the dim light of the storm, the soldiers’ armor flashed dully as they fell into lines, maneuvered cannons, and steadied weapons. 

Koume pulled up on her broom, and it responded by lifting her over the helmaroc and carrying her to the bird’s other side. Kotake was keeping pace there. “They’ve put together a welcoming party for us!” Koume cried, and both women cackled. They could see the cannons coming to bear atop the castle’s battlements and inner curtain wall. Miserable soldiers were taking up places in the rain with crossbows and swords in hand. Shields flashed the Royal Family’s crest. “Look, there he is!” Koume added, and she pointed out an unarmored Gerudo standing tall amongst the braced Hyrulean army.

“Well go on then!” Kotake shouted to the helmaroc. She sent a burst of ice magic to the underside of its right wing as encouragement. The bird cried out in anger and made to snap at her with its powerful beak. Kotake discouraged the bite with another shot of magic before pointing down at the castle. The helmaroc tucked in its wings and dove at a sharp angle towards the inner curtain wall. Koume and Kotake rode the slipstream, cackling the whole way. A cannonball shot towards the helmaroc, but it went wide.

On the ground, Ganondorf shifted his gaze from his mothers to the curtain wall. “Who told you to fire?” he roared up at the soldier who had lit the now-smoking cannon. The soldier looked down at the Gerudo king in shame. Seconds later, he and his fellows were running away to avoid the helmaroc sweeping down towards them. 

“Steady!” Ganondorf shouted to the men standing around him in the castle gardens. They needed the order, as it looked as if they were ready to bolt. Their eyes filled with the size of the dark blue bird when it alighted upon the curtain wall. The smoking cannon was crushed under one of its heavy talons; the other sunk claw-deep into the stone and mortar of the curtain wall. Tri-colored feathers accentuated the bird’s wingspan when it spread its wings in an intimidating stance. Its long, bright green and yellow tail feathers fanned out, and its mouth opened in a harsh cry to reveal a blue tongue and throat wide enough to swallow a man whole. Glowing yellow eyes peered through the eyeholes of an ornamental mask that was set around the bird’s powerful beak.

“Impressive,” Impa muttered as she came up to Ganondorf’s side. She didn’t sound happy; the reason was dressed in battle armor beside her. “Lord Ganondorf, may I ask you to keep an eye on Princess Zelda while I am with the other flank?”

“I will, my lady” Ganondorf promised. Impa nodded, shot a final hard look at Zelda, and hurried off. The princess took her place beside Ganondorf and unsheathed the rapier on her belt. A bow and quiver were slung across her back as well. “Are you all right about this?” Ganondorf asked Zelda while the bird and his mothers regarded the assembled soldiers.

Zelda shook her head. “Not at all. But being a princess or queen is about making tough calls. If I can’t take down my own friend when the time calls for it, how am I supposed to rule an entire kingdom?”

“So you’re looking to prove yourself just like Link is,” Ganondorf murmured to himself. Zelda heard him and raised her eyebrows. “Me too, my lady,” the Gerudo king said to her. “Although I’ve done a terrible job so far. For all my efforts to be good, I’ve only made things worse.” He laughed sadly. “I _am_ my ancestors.”

“No time to feel sorry for yourself now,” Zelda replied. Koume and Kotake had taken up positions on either side of the helmaroc. The bird’s head jerked to the left and right while its red-feathered throat moved with each panting breath it took. The witches weren’t bothering to keep the rain off of it, as the helmaroc was as much at ease with water as an osprey. 

“With luck, Link isn’t fully under their control,” Ganondorf whispered. The panting and restless movement of the helmaroc suggested this to him, but he couldn’t be sure. “Let me try talking to them.”

“Ganny!” Koume called, almost as if she had heard her son. Ganondorf’s jaw tightened when several of the soldiers sent him looks of varying wariness and amusement. “Look at what we’ve brought you!”

Ganondorf stepped forward; the soldiers parted in front of him. “Would that be my friend, by chance?” he called up to the witches. The helmaroc fixed its yellow eyes on him before moving to Zelda, Impa, and back to him. Certainly Link was in there, directing the eyes…

“It’s time, Ganondorf,” Kotake said. “Hyrule belongs in your hands, and you deserve to have it.”

Ganondorf’s question wasn’t addressed, and he was glad for that. It both confirmed his guess, and protected Link from the knowledge and ire of the soldiers. If the Regn Hylian got out of all this alive, he would need that anonymity. The Gerudo king spread his hands. “I thought you were disappointed in the fact that I wasn’t living up to your wicked expectations. Yet here you are saying I deserve a whole new kingdom?”

“If you come to your senses now and join us, we’ll put all of that behind us,” Koume promised.

Ganondorf shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

That voice… Those faces… 

_Attack. Kill them all._

They all played at the corners of his mind. He couldn’t name them, but they were familiar to him, he knew. But how did he know?

_Go on, you stupid bird!_

These faces… They had nothing to do with him. He was a helmaroc! He wasn’t prey. He wasn’t these soft things. He would crush them in his talons and tear them apart with his beak. He would swallow them.

_No stop let me go let me GO!_

_Stop fighting, boy, and do as you’re told!_

_NO! Leave me alone, leave me alone! I can’t… I won’t do this!_

He wondered how they would taste. Did they bleed black like him?

_STOP IT! I’M_ LINK! _I’M NOT A MONSTER!_

_You’re a fool, boy. You can’t fight us!_

_Impa! Zelda! Gan! Run! Just run, or kill me before I hurt anyone!_

_ENOUGH!_

“Prepare to fire!” Ganondorf called to the soldiers around him. Crossbows were raised, and torches were inched closer to the cannons’ fuses. The helmaroc’s movements were growing more erratic. It flapped its wings and whipped its head around. Its talons stomped atop the curtain wall, forcing the soldiers closest to it to retreat from the falling debris. The bird’s cries clashed with the thunder overhead.

“Is this the path you’ve chosen?” Kotake screeched down over the storm and the helmaroc. Ganondorf glared back at her. “So be it!”

Lightning struck at a close distance. Its flash reflected off of the helmaroc’s mask, beak, and talons when the bird took to the air. A few powerful beats of its broad wings had the bird aloft, and it swept over the gardens with a harsh cry. Both Zelda and Ganondorf ordered their archers to fire. The cannons waited for the bird to return.

Most of the arrows found their marks in the helmaroc. The bird screeched and circled back around. It swooped lower with its talons outstretched towards the soldiers. They were scattered as the talons dug gouges into the gardens and toppled one of the cannons.

Impa was shouting orders on the other side of the assembled army. Ganondorf and Zelda separated on silent agreement to better command their scattered soldiers. With the newly-arrived Viscen’s help as well (his late coming cooled his attitude towards Ganondorf), they were able to gather the men back into ranks and focus their attacks. A wall of arrows struck the helmaroc at once. The projectiles knocked the bird out of its next swoop. 

Ganondorf saw an opportunity, and he ran closer to where the bird was fluttering in the air for control. A burst of ice magic cut him off. He dodged and went left, only to have fire block his path this time. He swept the magic aside with an impatient hand and continued forward. “Link! Link, listen to me!”

A cannonball struck one of the helmaroc’s talons. The blow crippled it, and the bird screeched with a harder flap of its wings. It finally righted itself and fixed its yellow eyes on 

_Gan!_

the dark prey approaching it. A few more wing beats raised it level with the castle’s roof. It dove from there with its good talon stretched out towards its target. 

“Fire!” came Impa’s call in a break between the claps of thunder. Lightning highlighted three cannonballs as they struck the diving helmaroc square in the face and chest. Feathers and pieces of beak and mask flung away, and the bird collapsed against the side of the castle with a pained cry. The wall caved under its weight, and it dropped along with numerous chunks of stone to land hard on the ground. 

Koume and Kotake swooped towards Ganondorf. “Stay away from it!” Koume shrieked at her son. Ganondorf whirled around with a roar of rage on his lips. Swords appeared in his hands, and their blades sent sweeping arcs of magic towards his mothers. The witches peeled away with twin cries of anger and alarm, and Ganondorf was able to navigate the scattered debris to where the helmaroc lay panting.

Impa or Zelda must have stopped the soldiers from advancing, for Ganondorf heard no sounds of footsteps or flying arrows near him. Still, the storm was unsettling enough. Every boom startled him, and the lightning was harsh against his eyes. The rain, too, was bothersome. It slipped up his feet with each step. “All right, Link, I’m here,” Ganondorf called when he was within speaking distance of the helmaroc. The bird lifted its head from the ground and opened its blue mouth in a show of intimidation. “Come on, Link. I can help you, so just relax.”

His mind wandered. He saw a warm sitting room and felt a stinging splinter in his foot.

_Relax, kiddo, it’s not going to hurt much, and I have a special treat for you if you sit still like a brave boy: chocolate milk, straight from Lon Lon Ranch. How does that sound?_

The broken beak snapped out and nearly removed Ganondorf’s right leg below the knee. He jumped back and retaliated with the flat of a sword. “Relax!” he ordered again, but the helmaroc--or Link, rather--wasn’t listening. It got up onto its uneven talons, shedding chunks of stone, broken feathers, and arrows. Once on its feet, it cried out harshly, beat the side of its head against the castle twice in quick succession, and leapt up into the air where the storm’s winds carried it airborne. 

“Damn it, Link,” Ganondorf hissed. The helmaroc was already out of range of his better sorcery. The Gerudo king returned to where Zelda stood amidst her soldiers. “He’s not keen on listening,” Ganondorf told her in a low voice. He looked around at the soldiers. In the wake of the helmaroc’s inattention, they were more occupied with the magic and attacks his mothers were unleashing upon them. “But he doesn’t seem to be keen on fighting either.”

“Your mothers might change that,” Zelda remarked, and she pointed up. Ganondorf followed her finger and saw Koume break away from fighting to attack the helmaroc with her fire magic. It was a clear attempt to goad the bird into battle against the soldiers. The flashes of red meshed with the white lightning. In the bright flash of the latter, Ganondorf saw the helmaroc snap at Koume’s broom with a bite of its beak. The witch pulled away just in time and screeched obscenities.

Ganondorf chuckled. “They can’t control their own curse. My mothers always were… less than competent.” He gestured at the helmaroc and said to the soldiers, “Fire at will.”

“Lord Ganondorf!” Zelda’s eyes pleaded for him to retract the order, even as the fuses began to sizzle.

“I can’t do anything when he’s in the air,” Ganondorf told her. The first cannonballs boomed over his head towards the helmaroc. “If I can get him close, I can start to peel back the curse with some sorcery. Until then, he’s a threat.”

More cannonballs flew, and the helmaroc cried out when two of them struck it in the chest; a third grazed its wing. Koume and Kotake retreated out of range. A cannonball sailed towards Koume, and she turned it into a burst of molten stone and metal. The helmaroc followed the lead of its masters and began to retreat as well. Its long tail feathers marked its path as it flapped through the rain, dragging its crippled talon and dropping broken quills.

The soldiers broke into cheers. Impa shut them up soon enough with a grim reminder. “It’s still alive, you fools!” she shouted over the storm. The soldiers quieted and looked away. “Viscen, assemble your best archers and get them mounted and ready to leave in twenty minutes’ time!” With this order given, Impa pulled Ganondorf aside for a private word; Zelda followed. “I’ll stall them as much as I can, but you have little time if you’re to help Link. I can’t stop them from killing him to save Hyrule.”

“I understand, my lady,” Ganondorf replied. 

Zelda, too, nodded, which caught Impa’s attention. “Don’t think for a moment you’re going,” the Sheikah woman said in a hard voice. 

“She’s going,” Ganondorf spoke up before another argument could break out. Both women looked to him in surprise. “Link recognized the three of us in that crowd of soldiers. From my view, a second familiar face could help. And the princess has her own abilities, doesn’t she?” He nodded his chin at Zelda. “Magic, for instance?”

“Yes,” Zelda replied, slowly. She wondered how Ganondorf knew that. It was supposed to be a secret--or so Impa had stressed during her teachings. “It runs in the blood of the Royal Family.”

“My mothers are weak to elemental magic. They’ll try to engage us if they see we’re undoing their work, and the princess can help me in combating them. Her light magic will be useful against Link’s cursed form as well.”

_That_ wasn’t supposed to be known at all. Zelda spared Impa a look and saw her nurse had stiffened. 

Ganondorf looked between them before waving a hand in a _calm down_ gesture. “I was raised surrounded by sorcery. I can usually detect it in people. Don’t worry--I won’t tell anyone the sort of power the princess holds.”

Impa sagged on her feet, for she knew this would be another battle she would lose. Instead, she took up Zelda’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Stay safe, my princess.”

“You too, Impa,” Zelda returned. Impa spared a final look for both her and Ganondorf before moving away to join Viscen and the men he was assembling. “Lord Ganondorf, I think I know where Link is heading.”

The Gerudo king raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Zelda nodded. “Lake Hylia is in the direction he was flying towards. I’ve been thinking about something these past few days. I believe water has a weakening effect on your mothers’ curse. I think it’s because Link’s tribe had connections to it.”

“So he’s headed to Lake Hylia?” Ganondorf’s eyes widened. “His tribe’s ashes were spread there.”

“Perhaps subconsciously, Link is trying to seek out safety from his troubles,” Zelda suggested. “I think it’s our best bet. The helmaroc is easy enough to follow given its size, and we can think ahead on a plan of action as we chase it down. If we can somehow get it to fall into Lake Hylia, I think we’ll have a real chance of helping Link.”

“And Lady Impa thought you should stay behind,” Ganondorf muttered. The princess smiled at the subtle praise. “Come on, let’s saddle up. We have little time before the soldiers follow us.”

#

He was so tired, and so hurt. His scrambled mind sought comfort in familiar faces, only to turn away from them when the features blurred, or the names were lost. He was walking. No, he was riding. No, he was flying. He had talons. Hands. Wings. A bow. A beak. There was a mechanical monster following him. Its light burned his skin. There was a storm, and its thunder beat against his feathers. He was Link. He was the helmaroc. He was a Regn Hylian. He was a monster. He was… He was…

He was falling. 

The helmaroc opened its wings with a screech. Its crippled talon dragged across the surface of Lake Hylia as it swept towards the cliffs that lined the massive lake’s west side. There was an expanse of sloped but open land between the cliff faces and the shoreline. The helmaroc landed upon it and took time to catch its breath. Its long tail feathers spilled across the lake’s surface and billowed with the gentle incoming waves. Its talon panged in time to the pulses of agony in its skull and chest. 

Despite the pain and disorientation, one clear thought got through: it was _nice_ here. There were no visitors in this area, and so there was only the sight of the wet trees flashing silver in the storm’s wind, and the hissing sound of the rain against the lake. Not even the thunder and lightning could touch this small peace. Why had he never come here before?

_The wind picked up the ashes as they fell out of the multiple urns, and they slipped away from the cliff before falling into the water once the wind failed them. Behind him, a woman sang a prayer from an old, thick book. He turned away from the falling ashes and buried his nose in the thigh of the Sheikah woman standing beside him._

Oh. Right. 

_Wait._ Whose memories were those? Who was this voice in his head? He thought he was prey, with hands and weapons and a family. Impossible. The helmaroc lived alone. There was no family beyond the occasional mate.

The sound of horses broke through the helmaroc’s thoughts, and it lifted its maimed head towards the source. Through the trees that peppered the raised cliffs, its sharp eyes saw two of the beasts--one brown and one black--moving towards it. There were riders upon them. The helmaroc hunched its head and fluffed up its feathered body with a warning screech. Another piece of its mask broke away.

The darker prey stopped the other one with a word, and both of them dropped off of their horses. Almost immediately, the female approached the helmaroc. Her fellow made a grab for her, but she shrugged the hand off, and he called out, “Princess Zelda!”

_Zelda?_

The voice and memories were stirred up again. 

_He didn’t feel right. Flashes of the day before kept pushing to the front of his mind, but it was as if all of it had happened to someone else. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to do anything, really, but the Sheikah woman took him to the gardens regardless. There was a girl there, and she was a strange one. She was picking mushrooms, for one, and her dress and face were dirty. She tried to hug him after introductions were made, and she acted confused when he struggled and pulled out of her arms like an angry cat. The Sheikah woman mildly scolded her for it, and from there things went smoother. She abandoned her mushroom hunt to show him how to make a flower chain. It still hung in the Sheikah woman’s room, he knew, stiff and dry after all these years._

“Link? Can you hear me?”

The voice started to scream again. The helmaroc couldn’t tolerate it for much longer. It wanted to beat its head against the ground until the voice went away. The prey… The prey approaching him now was the cause of all this. If it eliminated this soft, little creature…

A black arrow of hard shadow deterred the beak that snapped towards Zelda. The helmaroc’s head jerked away when the arrow struck it in a burst of sorcery. Zelda turned around in time to see the bow in Ganondorf’s hand dissipate into black smoke and runes. Behind her, the helmaroc’s wings kicked up a gust as it took off into the sanctuary of the open sky.

“Thank you, Lord Ganondorf,” Zelda said when she returned to the Gerudo king’s side. Her voice shook a little; she had felt the beak graze her arm before the arrow turned it away. 

“You can thank me when Link is back with us, my lady,” Ganondorf returned. Both he and Zelda looked up to watch the helmaroc gain altitude. It fell into a low, lazy circle above the west side of the lake. Lightning outlined its dark blue shape against the stormy clouds. “Can you fly, Princess Zelda?” Ganondorf asked with little humor.

Zelda looked around the shore. Her eyes followed the nearest cliff. Its apex was high above the tree line, and its slope looked easy enough to climb. “If we can draw him down to there, do you think you can use your sorcery?”

Ganondorf studied the cliff as well. He nodded in approval of the plan. “It will have to be quick, dirty, and powerful. It’s going to rattle him pretty hard. It isn’t the way I would prefer to go, but…” He glanced at the helmaroc. “The time to play nice is over.”

Zelda agreed. She murmured a word that Impa had taught her, and she saw a flash in the corner of her eye, behind her right shoulder. When she reached back and drew from the quiver there, the arrow came out shining with a yellow light. Zelda notched, took careful aim, and released. The light arrow traveled fast and far, and it struck the helmaroc’s left wing in a flash of light. The bird’s screech traveled across the distance to echo against the cliffs. By the time it had reached that far, the helmaroc was already swooping down towards the shore.

“Let’s go,” Ganondorf commanded. “Stay close to the trees for protection.” He led the way up the cliff, hugging the trees that peppered the slope. Zelda followed behind him and drew the helmaroc along with the occasional light arrow. Ganondorf cast some sorcery on her quiver--short term magic, he stressed to her--that kept it full. Each arrow drew more and more of the helmaroc’s ire until soon it was diving towards the trees in an attempt to shred Zelda and Ganondorf with its talons. Leaves and boughs fell like rain; the latter added an additional danger to the climb. 

The cliff’s apex appeared between two tree trunks, and Ganondorf called, “We’re here! Just give me a moment!” He took up a stance near the cliff’s edge and stretched his arms as if drawing a bow. The shadowy bow and arrow appeared in his hands in a burst of runes. Zelda watched his mouth move in a string of sorcery while a ball of black light formed at the tip of the black arrow’s head. Circles of symbols and runes stretched out from the light, building on one another until it appeared that Ganondorf was holding up an intricate, spinning spider’s web.

The helmaroc dove at Zelda with an earsplitting screech. Her next light arrow found its shoulder, and she followed up the strike with a swing of her rapier as the bird swerved away from her. “Hurry!” Zelda cried to Ganondorf. The bird was growing tired of being struck. It was more reluctant to swoop in towards her when her next arrow hit it.

“Bring it closer!” Ganondorf shouted over a clap of thunder. Zelda moved towards him and shot another arrow. The helmaroc swerved away from the missile, lined up its talons, and dove towards its attackers. 

Ganondorf waited until the moment when the bird flared its wings, bringing its chest in line with his prepared arrow. He released, and the arrow took the sorcery with it to strike the helmaroc. 

Bursts of shadows and arcs of black lightning raced over the helmaroc’s form. The bird screamed and broke out of its dive to crash into the treetops. It recovered, still sparking with Ganondorf’s sorcery, and took to the air only to have its wings fail it. The helmaroc dropped with the sudden, dead weight of a stone. A great plume of water marked where it crashed into the depths of Lake Hylia, twenty yards from the shore.

Zelda released the breath she had held since Ganondorf shot his arrow. “Thank the Goddesses,” she said. “And just in time,” she added, seeing a group of horsemen riding towards Lake Hylia. Impa’s white hair was easy to spot against the dark, stormy landscape. “Come on. We need to get Link out of here before those soldiers see it was him all along.” Zelda made to move down the cliff. She was stopped by a heavy hand on her shoulder, and she looked back and up into Ganondorf’s troubled face. “What is it?” 

Ganondorf sighed in weariness. His eyes were fixed on the ripples spread across the water far below. “I don’t think we’re done yet.”

##########


	21. Maelstrom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second half of the battle at Lake Hylia brings a closure to Link's curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters remain after this one: chapter 22, and an epilogue. Both of them will go up together. If you've read this far, thank you so much!
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter.

# -Blue Arrow-

### Maelstrom

Had to… He had to… This was… If he could only swim away and

_NO GET OUT OF THE WATER THE SKY THE_

_Stop it! Get out! Get OUT! You’re not me, you’re_

_FLY FLY FLY_

He was moving his arms. Wings. He couldn’t see anything in the murk around him, but above him the lightning flashed against the surface of the water. He had to reach it. There were people there who could help him. If only he could

_His beak broke through the shell, and sunlight spilled in. It framed a feathered face that_

_He wiped the water-diluted blood from his cheek and looked up into a set of red eyes that_

Their minds floundered as much as their shared body. Link struggled to gain the upper hand. This form’s lungs were deep, but not infinite, and the pain and unfamiliarity they shared with each other was draining precious air. With the witches gone and the attacks halted, it was easier for him to push forward his consciousness. He worked on the form’s wings; the helmaroc had the right idea, in a way. They had to 

_FLY FLY FLY_

_I’m trying!_

Yet it was no use. The helmaroc was panicking; Link was panicking. Their talons touched the lake’s bottom, and the lame one stuck in the mud there. Water bird or not, no helmaroc could fight the weight of a lake. Their wings were tiring. Link was losing the fight against the bird’s rawer, animalistic fear. As the pressure in their chest increased, he retreated into the depths of his mind to avoid the truer depth drowning them. He imagined he was sinking into his favorite swimming hole. 

_Link’s feet touched solid ground, and he dropped forward onto his knees. His head bowed down, and he clutched at his hair while tears coursed down his cheeks. Around him, the silence of Silbarine pressed in. It was broken by the soft pad of paws._

_“What is it, boy?”_

_The Dark Wolfos’s hot breath fell against the back of Link’s head. He dropped his palms to the ground and sunk his fingernails into the damp, bloodstained earth. He wanted to scream. Instead, he nearly sobbed, “I’m tired of everything.”_

_“You have suffered much,” the Dark Wolfos said in acquiesce, and Link’s sobs sharpened. “Some at my hand, some at yours. But there are good things in your life. I have watched them, boy. I have flowed through your body and mind, and have looked out through your eyes. I have come to appreciate life again, and I thank you for that.”_

_“Then take it!” Link screamed, and his words echoed around the still village. “Take my life! I don’t want it anymore!” His forehead dropped to the ground, and his back hitched._

_“I won’t take it,” the Dark Wolfos said. “I owe you that much. But to borrow it… If you don’t mind… The witches’ magic would allow for that.”_

_“I don’t care,” Link whispered against the red dirt. He felt a warm, heavy tongue trace the back of his neck. It reminded him of the cloths Impa had so often placed there during his childhood, when he was sick or panicked. His eyes grew heavy beneath it._

_“Go to sleep, Link. You’re so tired. Let me take care of things from now on, and I will protect you from harm.”_

_Link straightened up, only to fall. His back dropped against something solid and warm. A feeling of calm fell over him when he felt the thrum of a steady heartbeat against his back. It was the beat of a heart that existed only in the past. His own heart in the present reached back and synced its beats to it. He knew this heart. He had stopped it himself. Even at the edge of death it was strong. He wished he had that strength now._

_“Look at what they’ve done to you,” the Dark Wolfos whispered, and it repeated, “Let me take care of things from now on.”_

The solid warmth moved behind Link, and he opened his eyes onto the distant, glimmering lake surface above. Anger boiled within him. The last shreds of the helmaroc’s panicked consciousness were batted aside by the rage when it took over Link’s mind. This anger was more powerful than the helmaroc’s earlier ire, and it burned away the bird’s form as a more fitting shape took its place. She would show them. She was stronger than they believed. She was capable. She bared her lengthening teeth in a grin. It felt good to be alive again.

#

The ripples on the surface of the water weren’t dissipating. Instead, they were growing into a frothy circle. Zelda stopped far from the waterline when she saw the roiled water. Behind her, Ganondorf tripped over a fallen branch with a curse. “I’ve just thought of something,” he said after joining Zelda’s side.

“Yes?”

“It’s possible my sorcery aggravated the curse.” Ganondorf pointed towards the disturbed water. “I’m getting a lot of bad vibes from there. Some of the curse might be dispelled, but it still has plenty of roots in Link’s mind.”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning his emotions might be having adverse effects on it.” Ganondorf flicked his wrists, and Zelda’s eyes widened at the sight of the swords that appeared in his hands. “I told you it would rattle him pretty badly. Prepare for the worst.”

Zelda unsheathed her rapier just before “the worst” appeared. The roiling water burst up in the wake of the dark shape that leapt out from beneath the surface. The splash of the lake water contested with the storm’s clamor and the heavy falls of four padded feet against the shore. 

“Link…?” Zelda’s voice was a whisper. She took a step back, and her rapier wavered before her wide eyes. The Dark Wolfos before her shook the lake water from its black fur before craning its head back in a long howl. The sound rattled through Zelda’s ribcage and clashed against her still heart.

_“Move!”_ a voice shouted. Zelda was jerked backwards by a rough hand. She heard a snarl, followed up by the sound of teeth against steel. She blinked and focused on the woman standing between her and the bristling monster.

“Lord Ganondorf, get the princess out of here!” Impa barked. “We have company!”

Zelda turned her head, only now hearing the sound of the soldiers fighting beyond the trees. Flashes of red and blue shined between the trunks along with the lightning. Impa cried out, and Zelda turned forward again in time to see the Dark Wolfos bowl her over. 

An arrow of shadow struck the monster’s muzzle before it could sink its teeth into Impa’s chest. The Dark Wolfos retreated with a yelp and shook its head clear of the sorcery sparking over it. Impa gained her feet in a swift roll and swapped the smaller dagger she had so far used for her broadsword. She moved in towards the Dark Wolfos again as Ganondorf took hold of Zelda’s wrist. He began to pull her away from the two battles.

“No!” Zelda tried to yank her hand free. “Lord Ganondorf, I have to help my people!”

“You’ll help them better by remaining alive,” Ganondorf snapped back. He softened his voice to add, “I’m at the mercy of your nurse’s command, my lady.”

“And she’s at the mercy of mine. Now let _go!”_ Zelda yanked her hand once more.

Ganondorf released her this time. He wasn’t happy to do so; that much was clear from the frustration in his face. The frustration warped to alarm a second later, and the Gerudo king shouted, “Get down!” He shoved Zelda’s head down while ducking his, and a ball of fire zipped over their heads with a hiss of evaporating rain. A cackle floated down to grate on Ganondorf’s ears. He clenched his teeth and straightened up with his swords at the ready as Koume swooped down at him.

Zelda beat him to the first blow. Ganondorf heard her mutter a word, and a blue arrow shot over his shoulder to strike Koume’s arm. She shrieked as a layer of ice formed over the limb. A hard shake and a burst of fire magic melted it, but the witch was rattled. She broke off to rejoin her sister in harassing the soldiers. Despite their better numbers and armor, the men and women were losing ground against the witches.

“We have to distract them, or my people are dead,” Zelda said.

Ganondorf nodded in agreement and stretched out an open palm. An orb of red and black sorcery formed above the open hand. The rain ricocheted off of it, and the lightning’s flashes didn’t touch it. Zelda took a step back when Ganondorf drove the ball into the ground with grunt. The red and black sorcery raced across the muddy ground to where Koume and Kotake were swooping down at the soldiers. Upon reaching the witches, the magic shot up as a flickering wall. It drove the witches back, and they spun on their brooms to shoot furious glares at their son.

Ganondorf beckoned to them with a hand that still sparked with sorcery. “Come on, this is between you and me, right? Let’s even the odds--two against two.” Zelda took up a stance beside him at the cue with a fire arrow notched and an ice arrow on standby in her quiver. 

As Zelda and Ganondorf began their battle, Impa was already deep into her own on Lake Hylia’s shore. She jumped back from the Dark Wolfos’s snapping jaws for what felt like the hundredth time and dropped into a defensive crouch with her sword over her shoulder. 

The monster paced a short length in front of her. Growls were constant in its throat, and there was no recognition in its eyes for the Sheikah woman. Black blood dripped from numerous cuts, yet so far Impa had avoided dealing any serious blows. Link was in there behind the raised hackles and long claws, and no matter what she may have said to Ganondorf, Impa couldn’t kill the Regn Hylian. She kept seeing the doe-eyed boy of eight wrapped in a fluffy towel, or tucked snug into thick blankets that nearly swallowed him in quilted down. She remembered staying up until dawn to watch over Link that first night. Every time after that when Impa had noticed some part of him was bigger or more developed, she felt a small pinprick of pain in her heart because she knew he was closer to striking out on his own.

That had happened much sooner than Impa had expected. Seven years of joy were followed by five years of concern and, yes, even fear. She always felt something terrible was going to happen, but this…

The Dark Wolfos’s stance shifted, and it belted towards Impa in a burst of speed. The Sheikah woman rolled to the left and swung her blade in her wake. The steel bit into the monster’s shoulder, and it staggered with a yelp. Black blood sprayed a tree trunk. Impa moved in to add to the collection of injuries. Her reluctance slowed her movements. The Dark Wolfos spun and swiped one of its heavy paws. The blow struck Impa’s shoulder and sent her rolling away. She recovered quickly and crouched some distance away to reevaluate her approach.

The Dark Wolfos’s jaw split open, and it laughed in a feminine voice. Impa was stunned, although she tried not to show it. She had heard tales of the more intelligent monsters gaining the skill of speech, yet this was the first time she was witnessing it. 

“You fight well, Impa of the Sheikah.” The last word was said with a snap of teeth, and the monster’s joviality hardened. Impa knew why; a Sheikah had sealed the Dark Wolfos in the first place. Was this battle revenge? “Link does not want me to kill you, and I have to agree to end such an opponent would sadden me.”

Impa raised her head more out of her crouch. “Link?”

“Yes.” The word was almost a purr. The Dark Wolfos extended its forepaws and dropped its hunchbacked body into a long stretch. “He sleeps within me now, just as I’ve slept within him these past twelve years. He is a good boy. He granted my wish to leave this world. Yet I’ve come to appreciate life again through his experiences, and so I think I’ll stay awhile.”

Impa’s face hardened into a scowl and she snapped out, “You will _not!_ Give him back his body and mind, or I’ll cut them out of you!”

“You may try!” The Dark Wolfos bared its teeth. “He is content here with me. He sleeps, and no nightmares torment him. He lives on in a body stronger and faster than he could ever hope for! There are no more concerns or fears now that we’re together. He can live again, as can I.”

“You don’t deserve to live!” Impa declared. “Link, don’t forget! This monster killed your tribe! It killed your sister! Whatever seductions it’s whispering in your ears are lies!”

Link stirred when a voice came to his head. _What was that?_ Yet the warm body curled around him deadened his consciousness. He shouldn’t be worrying about anything. It was nice here, wasn’t it?

_But…_

_Go back to sleep, Link. No need to concern yourself with anything else. I’m taking care of it for you, remember?_

Soothed, Link did as he was told, although his dreams weren’t pleasant like before. There was something darker creeping in on them. The happy village before his eyes meshed with a different village that was silent and stained red.

The Dark Wolfos made for Impa once again. The Sheikah woman waited for it. No more hesitating or second-guessing. It was better to free Link through death than allow him to continue being a prisoner of this monster in both mind and body. Or so she thought to herself. The conviction didn’t entirely transfer to action, as she was slow to bring her broadsword up as she rose out of her crouch. The Dark Wolfos’s teeth grazed her arm and drew blood for the first time. 

Impa warded further bites off with her blade before retreating to see to the wound. It wasn’t serious. She bound it with a strip of fabric torn from her clothing. The Dark Wolfos had pulled away to shake the new blood from its freshly-cut muzzle. Its tongue licked at the brighter red blood staining its teeth. Its taste didn’t appear to agree with the monster. The Dark Wolfos dry-heaved with a harsh sound, sounding much like Link in his worst moments of panic.

_Impa! Impa! You hurt Impa, you monster!_

_Settle down, Link. She’s fine. Go back to sleep._

_No!_

“Impa!” the Dark Wolfos cried in a male voice. Impa sucked in a startled breath. “Run, Impa! Just--” The plea deteriorated into a snarl, and the Dark Wolfos bit into its foreleg. It yelped in its own voice, and shook its head before growling at Impa.

Link was awake--stirred, apparently, by the wound Impa had suffered. Yet to keep sacrificing blood would cut the Sheikah woman’s hopes to save him short. She had to get a rise out of Link in a different way. Well, that was easy enough. “What did I tell you, Link?” Impa called while the Dark Wolfos settled into a crouch. “I knew you couldn’t handle it alone. You should have stayed home in the castle.”

The Dark Wolfos leapt in a blur of black fur. Impa was already out of the way, and the monster landed in the underbrush where saplings momentarily tripped it up. “Pathetic,” Impa remarked while the monster struggled to turn around. “I expected better from Master Rusl’s star pupil.”

“Shut up!” the Dark Wolfos snarled in two voices. 

“You’re putting shame to his memory, Link. Do you think he wanted you to be a slave to a monster?”

_She’s right! Let me go, let me go! I’ve changed my mind! I don’t want this!_

_Link, please relax._

_DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME TO RELAX!_

The Dark Wolfos closed in on Impa once more, and the Sheikah woman had to put aside her words in exchange for her broadsword. Steel and claws met and sparked off of each other as the combatants moved across the shore, leaving a mess of foot and paw prints in the mud to fill with rainwater. Sometimes, Impa saw a flash of recognition in the Dark Wolfos’s eyes. At these times, its paw or mouth would move a little slower, and she was able to get in a surer hit with her broadsword. It was never enough, however. She had to do more, but that meant…

The Dark Wolfos retreated into a crouch. Impa recognized the bunching of muscles in its hindquarters; she waited instead of dodging. When the monster’s leaping shadow darkened her, she slashed up in what she hoped would be a serious but not lethal blow. She forgot to account for how the monster’s weight would drive the sword in more. The blade cut open the Dark Wolfos’s belly; the subsequent yelp cut to Impa’s heart. 

Upon landing, the Dark Wolfos immediately collapsed. It regained its feet with obvious pain, and stood in place with its head hanging and its tongue lolled out. A grey rope slipped out of the bleeding wound, accompanied by a curtain of blood.

_Link stood on a red shore and regarded the dying monster before him. Her warmth at his back was gone, as was her strength from his body. She was dying, and for some reason he felt miserable over it._

_The Dark Wolfos licked its lips. “She is formidable, your Impa.”_

_Link wiped tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_

_The Dark Wolfos lay down with a whimper of pain. “Don’t waste my remaining time with apologies, Link. Just tell me if this is what you want.”_

_“I… I don’t know anymore!” Link admitted. On the heels of that, he added, “No! I don’t want any of this! I never did!”_

_“It’s too late for such childish words, Link,” the Dark Wolfos said in almost a motherly tone. “Learn to embrace your fate, or it will swallow you.” It lowered its head. “Don’t forget me, Link. My blood will still sleep in you, but it is in your memories where I truly live.”_

_“How could I ever forget you? After all you’ve done?”_

_“Heh. Such bitterness still. Put it behind you. Goodbye, boy, and thank you for all these past years.”_

_The last of the Dark Wolfos’s strength left Link. In its absence, his veins felt hollow, and his lungs refused to expand. Why did these things keep happening? Why wasn’t he allowed to be happy? What did the Goddesses have against him? The questions went unanswered, as always, and anger pressed against the walls of the empty space the Dark Wolfos’s consciousness had left behind._

The Dark Wolfos’s body was dissipating into smoke with each raindrop that fell upon it. Impa sheathed her broadsword and watched as Link came back to her. His hands and knees replaced the monster’s paws, and the wound closed up as his clothes and skin emerged through the silky fur. 

Link was crying; Impa heard the sobs under the storm. She approached him warily, for she could sense something wasn’t right. The feeling of ill will that had pervaded Link’s previous form was still around him. Impa stopped five feet away and called, “Link?”

Link screamed, and Impa stepped back with a gasp. She watched him raise his head and claw at his cheeks while his screams warped into roars of rage. The fingers drew red lines of blood down his face. Impa closed the distance to him and tried to pull his hands away. She called his name the whole while, but her pleas turned to a scream when she was blasted away by an unseen force. 

Zelda’s voice came to Impa’s ears, and the Sheikah woman raised her spinning head to find the princess crouched in front of her. Ganondorf stood nearby, watching Link, who struggled in an aura of dark sorcery close by the waterline. Both he and the princess shared scorch marks in their clothes, and patches of ice-reddened skin.

“We have those witches on the run, but we heard Link scream, so we came back to help,” Zelda explained. She helped Impa to her feet, being mindful of the wound in the nurse’s arm.

“He’s angry,” Ganondorf relayed with a nod to Link. “What did you do, Lady Impa?”

“I freed him from that Dark Wolfos’s grip,” Impa replied. “But maybe deep down he didn’t want to be freed.”

“Well you managed to cleave away more of the curse,” Ganondorf said in praise. “But it still has a grip on him. It’s changing him again.” He made to move forward, only to stop when two shadows darted over him. “They’re back!”

“That’s right!” Koume called down. 

“And we have a surprise for you!” Kotake added. She and her sister flew in a circular pattern that tightened until they were rubbing elbows. With twin cackles and flashes of light, two became one. When the light cleared, the spectators were able to take in the combined form of the two witches: a tall, young woman with hair of frost and flame. She held a fire rod in one hand, and an ice rod in the other. 

“You may call us Twinrova,” the new witch said in a doubled voice. She pointed her ice rod at her opponents. “We will call you early to the Sacred Realm. Ah, but first…” The rod shifted to where Link was crouched. He almost couldn’t be seen in the waves of dark sorcery that flared around him. “We have to cut our broken puppet’s strings.”

Ganondorf moved to stand in the ice rod’s line of fire. Twinrova pouted and scoffed. “Shadow has been moved by light, it seems,” she remarked. 

“Every shadow needs a light to cast it,” Ganondorf returned. 

“Then we will snuff out your precious light!” Twinrova screamed. She moved around to Link’s other side, only to cry out in frustration when Ganondorf moved with her. “One of you will die!” Twinrova declared. “As our son, we’ll give you the choice--you or him?”

“You,” Ganondorf replied. His boot heels crackled with sorcery, and he leapt up with his blades ready in his hands. A whirl of steel sent Twinrova retreating with a cry of alarm. Ganondorf dropped to the ground on bent knees and made to follow them on foot. He was stopped by Impa and Zelda.

“We’ll go after her,” Impa declared. “I’ll be of no help against Link. I can’t hurt him like he needs to be hurt, and you can’t hurt your mothers in the same way, can you?” Ganondorf said nothing, but his scowl answered the question. “Princess Zelda, let’s go. We need to make sure Twinrova doesn’t get to the soldiers or any innocent people.”

“Please take care of him, Lord Ganondorf,” Zelda said before she followed her nurse in Twinrova’s wake. 

Ganondorf turned around and fixed his eyes on the ball of flame-like sorcery that shielded Link from view. “Take care of him,” he repeated in a grumble as he walked forward. “Do you think my mothers are the only ones I can’t hurt? _Oy!_ Link! Are you in there? Can you hear me? Come on, I’m tired of this damn rain. I want to go home, but I can only do that if you cooperate.”

It appeared Link had heard Ganondorf. The sorcery began to fade away. The rain hurried it along, and Link was revealed by bits and pieces. He was on his knees and bowed over as if sick. The sorcery had bled the color out of his blackened clothes, turning the tunic pale blue. Ganondorf also noticed a few new additions, such as a blue-grey cuirass and a heavier muscle structure.

“Goddesses damn it all,” Ganondorf spat. He retreated a few steps as the changed Hylian gained his feet. Red scratches marked his face like war paint, and his hair had paled to white as if from trauma. “A defunct proxy of the Goddesses, blinded by rage,” Ganondorf remarked as he looked into Link’s milky eyes. “You need to stop letting this curse have its way with you.”

Link’s answer was a fierce roar, and he waved a hand. A massive sword appeared in his hand as it swung, and the blade nearly cut off Ganondorf’s head. The Gerudo king retreated further with his own swords up in a defensive stance. Link’s sword was helix in shape and of two hues. It was as long as he was tall, and he gripped it with both hands. The helix blades shined with a white light that somehow looked ghastly instead of bright and true.

“So it’s a fight you want,” Ganondorf said. He switched his blades and body into a ready stance. Link bared his teeth, showing incisors that were a little too long. “What? You’re not in a talking mood?”

Link roared and ran at Ganondorf with his blade held at his side. The sword’s weight slowed his steps and threw him off balance, preventing all but the bluntest and most direct of attacks. Gone was the lithe grace of Link’s true self. He charged head on towards Ganondorf, and struck hard and fast. 

Blow after blow came down on Ganondorf. He dodged or parried when he could, yet there was another element to the battle he had not expected. With each swing of Link’s sword, discs of green energy lashed out of the twisted blades. They fell like punches against Ganondorf’s limbs and chest. Fortunately, he was a man who could take a lot of abuse. He dodged what attacks he could and endured the rest while he searched for an opening to disarm or disable Link. He finally got in a hit, and red stained the pale blue of Link’s tunic. 

Link roared and flailed his sword. Ganondorf parried a close blow, and his sword slipped into the inner curve of the helix blade. Link’s next flail snapped the Gerudo king’s sword in half; the broken piece nicked Ganondorf’s arm as it sailed away, drawing a line of blood.

Ganondorf threw aside the broken blade with a snarl. “Is this what you’re reduced to?” he shouted while Link swung at nothing but empty air, roaring all the while. “You’re little more than a rage-filled beast! Some hero you are!”

Link turned towards the sound of Ganondorf’s voice and ran at him once more. Ganondorf parried the first blow and moved inside the helix blade’s range to ram a shoulder into Link’s cuirass. The young man staggered backwards. Ganondorf followed up the attack with a swipe of his sword that shaved off the topmost, pointed inch of Link’s left ear. The Hylian flailed with his blade again and got in a lucky hit. Ganondorf retreated, hissing, and pressed a hand to the shallow cut on his hip. It hurt, but the pain felt good. It was a reminder that Ganondorf was once again engaged in the thrilling dance of battle against a hero.

Link continued to whip his sword around. The helix blade’s weight dragged him forward a few inches with each swing until the twisted edges bit into a tree trunk. Link began to attack the trunk with abandon. Wood chips flew with each blow. 

Ganondorf had to laugh. “You stupid kid!” he shouted over the storm and Link’s roars. “You’ve gone from beast to beaver.” It was hilarious! To think that such a fool was ever a threat! Chuckling, Ganondorf advanced towards the hero. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll put you out of your misery like the dumb, wounded animal you’ve become.”

_This is wrong. This isn’t what Princess Zelda meant when she asked me to take care of Link._

_Shut up. You’re a dumb, wounded animal too._

If Ganondorf’s feet were lighter, Link would have never heard him draw near. Yet the Gerudo king approached without care for subtlety with a twisted smile on his face. Rage had filled him as well, but it was less blinding than that which had overtaken Link. It was more _precise._ It aimed his blade at the boy’s back, seeing a green tunic. Ganondorf’s eyes tossed the walls of a dark castle over the lake vista. This time he would win. His sword thrust forward.

Link heard the heavy footfalls and the dark chuckle. He turned, blind but aware, and the sword grazed off of his cuirass in a spray of sparks. He retaliated without pause, and felt his sword bite flesh. He followed up the hit with more, roaring while someone in his head pleaded for everything to stop, and another someone told him to relax, and yet another someone said nothing and only watched with something like fascination.

Ganondorf blocked the blows and leapt back out of range. He laughed upon touching down. “So you still want a piece of me? Very funny, taking on the Great, Evil King Ganondorf. But I like your attitude, kid, so I’ll play a little longer.” He beckoned Link with his free hand, although the foolish hero couldn’t see it.

That voice played at Link’s ears. He swore he had heard it before in a dozen different ages. Every time it had teased and taunted while he struggled to survive and, more importantly, win. He would show that voice’s owner he could win. HE WOULD SHOW IT!

_Stop! I’m tired of it all!_

_Stop it now! I swore this wouldn’t be me!_

“Stop it, both of you! You’ve lost yourselves!”

Link was blinded, yet he could see a yellow light beyond the darkness over his eyes. It brightened, and he heard the whistle of an arrow before something thudded against him.

The light arrow that flew past Ganondorf’s head cleared the red haze that had fallen over his eyes and thoughts. He blinked and took two steps back with a harsh gasp. His sword was stained red. It matched the stain on Link’s tunic. When had that happened? He ran his free hand over his face and sucked in a shuddering breath.

The light arrow was impaled in Link’s cuirass. It hadn’t struck flesh, and it still shined like the sun. Link flailed at it with roars of pain until the arrow was knocked loose. He drew his hand back as if burned, and fixed clenched teeth and narrowed eyes on a point behind Ganondorf. The Gerudo king didn’t need to turn around to know Princess Zelda was standing behind him. 

“Where’s Twinrova?” Ganondorf asked while he kept his eyes on Link. The young man was panting like a dog, and the point of his helix blade rested on the ground. 

“Impa is taking care of her,” Zelda replied. 

“You left your nurse alone with my mothers?” Ganondorf snapped with a quick glare at her.

Zelda flailed a hand at Link. “You were wrapped up in your memories! I had to intervene, or you would have killed Link! Besides, Impa can take care of herself.” 

This statement was underlined the next moment when Twinrova burst out of the trees’ eaves and into the open sky above the lakeshore. She was followed by Impa, who leapt out of the boughs of a tree and sliced the sky with her broadsword. Twinrova screamed, and the ice rod fell to the ground with a hand still attached to it. Unprompted, Zelda followed up the blow with a fire arrow. It hit Twinrova in her right knee and stuck; the flames began to feed on her skin.

Impa landed in a crouch and straightened up while Twinrova screeched through her pain. Drops of blood mixed with the falling rain. “Is everyone all right?” 

“That remains to be seen,” Ganondorf replied. Link was raising his sword. Impa gasped when she saw his changed appearance, and she raised her broadsword towards him.

“Wait a moment,” Zelda begged. “I think he’s coming around.” This appeared to be true. There were hints of Link’s true voice beneath his gasps, and his blind eyes were focused in Twinrova’s direction. He slashed, and a disc of the green energy traveled up to strike the joined witches. 

Twinrova’s screams of pain cut off, and she focused her ire on Link. “Stupid puppet!” she shrieked, and she dove at Link with her remaining fire rod coming around to bear. Link warded her off with another slash of magic, and Twinrova peeled away to disappear back into the trees. Link chased after her with a roar on his lips.

“Let’s go!” Impa shouted. Zelda and Ganondorf followed her through the trees. It wasn’t easy to track Link through the storm-darkened underbrush. Zelda finally found footprints, and she led the way down the path they made. She had to stop twice to seek the path again where the rain had ruined it. During the second search, a scream split the air before it was swallowed up in thunder. 

“It came from this direction!” Ganondorf pointed to where the trees thinned out twenty yards away. 

“Was that Link’s voice?” Zelda asked as she and Impa hurried in Ganondorf’s wake. His wider frame pushed aside much of the underbrush, making it easier for them to keep up with his long strides. 

Ganondorf shook his head. “I couldn’t tell with this storm. We’re almost there, come on.” He lengthened his strides, and a quarter minute later he emerged into the open landscape beyond the trees. His arm shot out to catch Zelda before she could rush forward. Behind her, Impa emerged at a more cautious pace and uttered a strangled cry.

Twinrova lay on her back against the ground. Her eyes were open and vacant, and blood spilled out around her across the wet grass. The helix blade was impaled in her chest, and Link’s hands were still around its hilt. He hung bent over on his braced arms, and sucked in breath after breath. Sobs could be heard between the gasps. 

Ganondorf dropped his arm, but urged Zelda to practice caution. “Give him a moment to regain himself,” he said with a gesture to Link’s altered appearance. Link’s body had returned to its normal proportions, clear of wounds, and his eyes and hair were no longer changed. His tunic slowly darkened to its original blue, and the cuirass dissipated into steam with each raindrop until it vanished altogether. The helix blade vanished with it.

Before anyone could approach him, Link’s hands dropped, and his sobs warped into laughter. His shoulders jerked with each laugh, and soon his guffaws were contesting with the thunder. His friends watched him stagger into a tree where he collapsed against it, weak with mirth.

“I can’t watch this,” Impa whispered. “I’m going to knock some sense into him.”

“Go on, Sheikah woman,” Link hissed in Koume’s and Kotake’s voices. “We dare you.” 

Impa gasped, and Ganondorf cursed. Their reactions appeared to amuse Link--or rather, the witches that now possessed him. He pushed away from the tree and bent over in the wake of his renewed laughter. He was nearly breathless, and tears fell down his cheeks. When he had regained some breath, the witches cried out, “See how fast we can stop his heart if you try!” Link’s face warped into true pain, and he gripped at his chest with a gasp.

“Link!” both Impa and Ganondorf called. 

Zelda didn’t cry out. She stepped forward, drew a light arrow, and aimed it at Link. Her stance was straight, giving nothing away of the rapid heartbeats in her chest. “Can you stop it faster than I can pierce it?” she asked the witches who had taken over Link. Her voice wanted to shake, but she refused it. Better this than…

Link’s pain twisted into amusement, and he straightened up with arms out to the side in welcome. “You would kill your friend?”

Zelda closed her eyes for a brief moment and took a steadying breath. “If it meant he died by my hand instead of yours, yes I would,” she replied with a look of fierce determination. “Let him go, or die with him when this light arrow rips apart your dark souls. Link will return to his family, whereas you two…” She forced a smirk to her face. “Well, you’ll see soon enough what punishment the Goddesses have in store.”

Ganondorf and Impa wisely remained silent, although if they could read each other’s minds they would discover that both of them wished for the same outcome: for Link to be returned, and the light arrow never fired. They also wondered if Zelda truly would release the arrow. They got their answer when Link’s body flared with dark sorcery.

Zelda released. The light arrow whistled towards its target, but cleaved only a flicker of the sorcery when Link dodged with supernatural speed. He laughed at Zelda’s startled look and snapped his fingers. His bow appeared in one hand, and his unique arrow in the other. He notched, drew, and activated the arrowhead’s blue blade before Zelda had notched her second arrow. Unlike Zelda, Link didn’t waste time with threats. He released as soon as the arrowhead was aligned with the princess’s heart.

Ganondorf was glad for his mothers’ sense of poetry. If Link had used a normal arrow, the Gerudo king would have never had the time to move in before it struck Zelda. Yet the unique arrow needed a second to activate, which was enough. With a bit of sorcery, Ganondorf was able to get in front of Zelda in time. He caught the arrow with his own skill, snapped off the strange mechanism, and shifted forward in another blur of sorcery to drive the blue blade into Link’s gut. Zelda’s and Impa’s screams punctuated the blow.

The sharp pain cleared Link’s mind. He fell forward over Ganondorf’s arm with a choked scream while the two voices in his head screeched warnings to each other as their life-force was driven out by their son’s sorcery. Ganondorf’s broad hand was against Link’s back, and he was muttering in Gerudian. The blood leaking out from around the arrowhead spiraled up Link’s tunic and over his shoulders to join the braced palm. Link grimaced when pain grew in his back, and he screamed in the witches’ voices, “You’ll regret this!”

Ganondorf finished his work. “I already do,” he muttered. 

“I’ll come back to haunt you!” the witches warned. 

Ganondorf shoved the arrowhead in deeper. He told himself it was to drive out the last of his mothers’ essences. He ignored the louder part of him that was enjoying the warmth of the hero’s lifeblood coursing over his hand.

The pain and voices left Link with a final, harsh rip down his spine. He didn’t scream, as he had no more breath for that. He blinked at the darkness sneaking over his eyes. His body felt both heavy and weightless. His fingers relaxed, and his bow dropped to the ground. 

Impa and Zelda watched a white seabird with green accents flutter away from Link’s back. It lasted two seconds in the air before dropping to the ground, where it collapsed into a ball of wet, damaged feathers and twisted wings. The rain washed its remains away as if it was little more than spilled ink.

“Princess Zelda!” Ganondorf called, and the princess dropped her hands from her mouth with a small jump. “Please take him from me.” 

Zelda hurried to Link and took him into her arms to lay him on the ground. Impa was beside her within seconds. Link’s bleary eyes looked up at both of them. His hand fell over the wound in his gut, and Zelda gripped it to reassure him.

“He’ll be fine if you get him to a fairy fountain within the hour,” Ganondorf said. He sounded breathless, and his eyes were dazed. He flicked blood from his hand with an almost detached air. “As for me, I need to get away from him for a while.” With no further explanation, Ganondorf turned and disappeared into the trees, taking Link’s arrowhead with him.

##########


	22. Becalmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of the battle at Lake Hylia, Link is left to pick up his pieces, and ultimately comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last proper chapter of _Blue Arrow._ The epilogue follows.
> 
> Sheikan is spoken. Translations are, as always, provided at the end.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you!

# -Blue Arrow-

### Becalmed

Nabooru raised her sweaty head and took her first full breath in half an hour. “It’s done,” she announced to the tense Sheikah woman leaning against the wall of the bedroom. Nabooru smiled through her weariness. “It’s all gone.” She raised her hand from Link’s brow. It was cupped around something. Nabooru clenched her fingers, and the sound of a breaking egg cut the room’s quiet. “Every scrap of it.”

“Will he wake now?” Impa asked as she pushed away from the wall. She dropped down on the other side of the bed and put a hand on Link’s cheek. This was the very room where he had slept during his childhood in the castle. Impa had ordered Link to be brought here in the hopes that a familiar setting would hurry along the healing of his wound where her Sheikah skills lagged. 

Nabooru frowned at the question. “He hasn’t woken these past three days?” 

“He fell unconscious shortly after Lord Ganondorf got rid of the _tatau._ Since then, he hasn’t opened his eyes. He doesn’t even talk in his sleep. And he’s so still, I keep checking to see if he’s breathing.”

Nabooru frowned deeper. “The reason for this could be one of many things. I’ll speak to Ganondorf about it.”

“Lord Ganondorf still has Link’s gossip stone,” Impa told her. “But he hasn’t answered any of my attempts to reach him.”

“He’s in solitude right now,” Nabooru informed Impa. “He is regaining himself through meditation. He grew as close as Link did to losing his mind entirely to rage and the call of his fate. But perhaps he will be willing to at least answer you. I’ll mention it when I talk with him.” 

Impa bowed her head in gratitude. “I appreciate it. Safe travels, and thank you for everything you’ve done.” The Gerudo woman also bowed her head with a promise to visit again. She closed the door quietly behind her, leaving Impa to stroke Link’s hair back from his still face.

#

Nabooru visited again the next day, and to Impa’s surprise she brought Ganondorf with her. After greeting the king and queen, the two Gerudo joined Impa and Zelda in Link’s room. (They were forced to detour through a longer route, as reconstruction hadn’t yet started on the side of the castle where the helmaroc had crashed into the wall.) Upon reaching the room, formalities were passed before the group fell into an awkward silence. 

Ganondorf broke the quiet when he stepped up to Link’s bed and pulled the sheet further down the Regn Hylian’s chest. His fingers traced the edge of the bandage over Link’s abdomen. “You didn’t take him to a fairy fountain?”

It was Zelda who explained. “He didn’t want to go. He insisted upon a natural recovery.”

“He wanted a scar,” Impa added with a small sniff of dissent.

Ganondorf chuckled. “Another souvenir.” He sounded tired, and he moved with the slowness of someone suffering from sore muscles. “And how is the wound coming along?”

“Fine,” Impa replied, more relaxed. “I’m seeing to it myself with my people’s skill as well as natural remedies. It should be healed within a few more days. It’s the eternal sleep that has Zelda and me more concerned. Nabooru said she removed all of the curse’s remnants, so why does Link not wake up, or at least stir?”

Ganondorf ran a hand up to Link’s neck and back down his torso again. The skin wasn’t clammy or hot, and when he pressed a hand to the young man’s chest, the heartbeat felt normal. Ganondorf next turned Link onto his side so that he could study the young man’s back. No trace of the _tatau_ was there. The Gerudo king made a thoughtful sound in his throat and turned Link onto his back again. “Is he taking in water?”

“If we pour some into his mouth, he swallows,” Zelda confirmed.

“And food?” Ganondorf asked. 

Impa shuddered. “The only time we tried, he nearly choked.”

“Okay.” Ganondorf turned to Nabooru, and the two Gerudo passed a silent conversation. Nabooru ended it with a nod, and Ganondorf said, “With your permission, my ladies, I would like to try a more invasive measure.”

Zelda’s face hardened. “You want to go walking back into his mind,” she guessed. This whole thing had started with Ganondorf meddling in Link’s affairs, and now he wanted to pry and prod some more? 

Nabooru placed a hand against her chest. “I will watch him as he walks, my lady. He may need my help, after all. It’s possible Link’s mind is in a place where he can’t be reached. It would account for the inactivity of his physical body.”

Zelda crossed her arms and glanced between the two Gerudo. “Then why don’t you go in instead of him, Lady Nabooru?” Impa murmured something in a hard tone, and Zelda deflated some with a word murmured in return.

Nabooru answered the princess’s question with no hint of having taken offense. “Ganondorf is more…” She paused, smiled thinly, and continued, “influential over Link than I am. He would have better luck bringing Link back. But again, in Link’s absence it falls to you to grant or deny permission.”

It was Zelda’s and Impa’s turn to pass a silent conversation. Impa nodded, and Zelda mirrored her with reluctance. “When can we start?” the Sheikah woman asked, turning back to her guests.

“I’m free now,” Ganondorf replied with a tired smile. 

Zelda narrowed her eyes a little. “So soon? You nearly killed Link at Lake Hylia.”

“The fastest way to grow accustomed to cold water is to jump right in,” Ganondorf replied. Zelda’s look told him she didn’t agree. “Nabooru, let’s get started.”

Three more chairs were brought in from a nearby sitting room, and everyone took a seat. Ganondorf sat closest to Link’s head with Nabooru beside him. Impa and Zelda took up seats on the other side of the bed. After wetting his hand in a water jug, the Gerudo king dropped it to Link’s brow, pushing up the bangs, while his other hand was taken into Nabooru’s. He took a minute to focus himself with his eyes fixed on the clouds outside Link’s window. Once he was finished, his eyes slipped closed. Impa and Zelda saw Link’s body jerk.

“It’s okay,” Nabooru assured them. Her eyes were distant, but open. She smiled vaguely. “You might see Link move around. Just hold him down if necessary.”

“Hold him down?” Zelda repeated, startled.

“It’s okay,” Nabooru reassured once more. 

Her voice echoed down through her connection to Ganondorf. He lifted his head from his spinning dagger and smiled a little as he waited for the blade to come to a stop. It was taking an unusually long time. Finally, after almost two minutes, the blade stopped with its point directed towards the open space between the crossroad’s north and west doors. “Nabooru,” Ganondorf called. “He’s in the void.”

“That would explain it,” Nabooru said with an unhappy sigh. She spoke both aloud and directly to Ganondorf’s wandering consciousness for the benefit of everyone gathered. “You’ll have to go in and pull him out yourself, Ganondorf.”

“Can I do that? You’ve warned me against walking in there before.”

“You shouldn’t go in alone, but I’m here. I’ll anchor you so that you don’t slip away. Just don’t dawdle, because it will be a strain on all of our minds.” Nabooru’s vacant eyes switched their focus back to Impa and Zelda. “It might get a little rougher for Link now.”

Ganondorf sighed, sheathed the dagger, and walked forward towards the space between the two houses. To hesitate would be to make it harder, so he stepped over the threshold without pause. It was still difficult. The void resisted him, but he shouldered his way through.

The scenery change around him. There was now a lake against a black horizon--not Lake Hylia, but one much smaller. The water was clearer, however. Ganondorf’s mouth watered from thirst at the sight of it. But he had a job to do. He took another step forward, and the scenery jerked at the edges. With every step after, things grew more violent. It was as if someone was holding a tapestry before Ganondorf’s eyes and yanking it back and forth. Simultaneously, he felt as if he was walking on a road that was slowly spiraling in on itself. There were several times when he was sure if he looked left, he would trip into an endless fall. He kept his eyes forward and followed the jerks where they were strongest. 

Memories flitted about the darkness like ghosts. They wandered the void, being discarded or buried, or simply lost over time. Most of them were faces--people Link had met once as a young child who were now forgotten with age. Others were frightening memories. A dog ran by at a gleeful romp despite its caved-in head. Monsters roared and snuffed out of sight. And of course, Regn Hylians with all manners of missing limbs and terrible wounds wandered. 

Ganondorf was tempted to touch each memory he passed by. Doing so would tell him the story behind them, yet it would also cast his consciousness into the void as well. He resisted the temptation, even going as far as to fold his arms across his chest, and he eventually found himself at the lake’s waterline. A boy covered in black monster blood was crouched there.

“I’ve found him,” Ganondorf announced. Nabooru relayed the message to Impa and Zelda. The women nodded and applied more of their weight onto Link’s jerking limbs. 

Ganondorf took one more step, and the scenery jerked so violently he knew another step would likely reject him from Link’s mind, and not unscathed. The lake was now tipped at a steep angle, framed in edges that buzzed and teemed like bees. 

Link raised his head, looked at Ganondorf, and dropped his head again with numerous shakes. “No. No, no, no--”

“Come on, little fish,” Ganondorf coaxed. “It’s time to go back. We’re all waiting for you.”

“No, I won’t go back. I won’t. No one loves me. No one cares about me.”

“Of course we do, Link,” Ganondorf countered. “That’s why I’m here risking my sanity to help you.”

“You shouldn’t have!” Link snapped. The scenery jerked as he gained his feet. He was fifteen now, clear of blood and fierce in expression. He cast a wolfos-shaped shadow. The lake hung suspended above him, and its water roiled. 

Ganondorf wasn’t sure if he was upright or not, but he knew better than to look away or move his feet. “Why not, Link?”

“Because I should have died with my tribe! I should have been at my sister’s side and gone with her! But those stupid Goddesses had other plans, and they didn’t care if I wanted a part of them or not! I could be in the Sacred Realm right now with my friends and family, but instead I’m here in this world all alone!”

“You’re not alone, Link,” Ganondorf insisted. “How many times must you be told that-- _shown_ that--before you realize it?”

“Shut up! Just shut up!”

“Ganondorf!” Nabooru’s voice sounded strained. “You need to hurry! Impa is growing concerned, and I don’t blame her. Link’s nose is bleeding, and you’re shaking.”

Ganondorf cursed. He had spent too much time in the void. If he lingered much longer, he would become one more memory lost in Link’s mind. “I don’t have time to wait around for you to come to your senses.” Ganondorf reached across the void without moving his feet, and his hand clasped around Link’s wrist. The Hylian was grown now, and he had more strength to struggle as he was dragged towards the crossroads. Ganondorf knew so long as he kept backing out of the void, things would be fine. He used his more superior strength to keep Link moving with him.

Link tugged on his enclosed hand. “Gan! Gan, please don’t do this!” he begged. “Please, Gan, I’ll be good! Just let me go! Just let me stay here, and I’ll do whatever you want!”

_“I want_ you back with us!” Ganondorf snapped. Link dug in his heels, but it was too late. The twisted landscape fell away to the more controlled environment of the crossroads. Link’s feet staggered across the threshold, and he collapsed to his knees with heavy sobs. Ganondorf released his hand, and the young man dropped forward onto his forearms. His back heaved in jerks and spasms.

Ganondorf opened his eyes in time to see Impa and Zelda pull their hands away from Link. There were red lines across his arms where Zelda had held him down. The Regn Hylian’s face contorted into a grimace, and he dragged one of the spare pillows over his face as he curled up on his side. Zelda reached for his shoulder, but Ganondorf stopped her with a curt shake of his head. “Give him room to breathe,” he advised, and the princess nodded. 

“He won’t fall into that unnatural sleep again, will he?” Impa asked.

Nabooru shook her head while Ganondorf fell to rubbing his brow. “Only another curse could open the way back into the void for him. He’ll be fine. Give him a day’s rest, and then try to get some food into him.”

Ganondorf dropped his rubbing hand, stood up from his chair, and stretched; his spine cracked. “Come on,” he urged, and he beckoned the women out of the room. Outside in the hall, he said in a soft voice, “A few more familiar faces might help Link along in his recovery.”

Zelda understood, and she smiled faintly. “I’m sure the children will cheer him up, if nothing else will.”

“Give it a day,” Ganondorf said, echoing Nabooru’s advice. “Until then…” He and Nabooru bowed, said their respectful goodbyes, and accepted Zelda’s and Impa’s thanks before departing.

#

Colin and Neve had visited Hyrule Castle before, but for Kukiel and Sakura it was a new and surreal experience. Everyone seemed so _nice._ The castle help bowed whenever the children passed by, and there were smiles everywhere--although, Kukiel later thought in hindsight, the children’s royal escort was perhaps the reason for the abundance of niceness. 

“Now remember,” Zelda said as she and the four children neared Link’s bedroom door. “Link has been through a lot, and he wasn’t himself when he went to Ordon and threatened you. He was under a spell of sorts. He would never hurt you, so there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Did he ask to see us?” The question was on Colin’s tongue from the moment the soldier had appeared in Ordon Village with Zelda’s invitation.

“No, not specifically,” Zelda replied. She couldn’t lie to them. “But I think you can all cheer him up.” She opened the door and watched the children file inside. “My nurse Impa will be around in a while with lunch. Keep Link company until then, okay? If you need me, I’ll be down the hall in the sitting room. It’s the fourth door down from this one, on the left.”

“Okay,” Sakura replied for everyone. Zelda closed the door, leaving two inches open, and walked down the hall. She murmured a prayer along the way.

Kukiel was the first to break away from the hesitant group and walk up to the bed. Her fingers worked at the arrowhead hanging from her neck as she studied the pillow over Link’s head. “What’s wrong with him?”

Neve spoke up--not in her usual cheery way, but more subdued. “My mommy says that sometimes Link gets really, _really_ sad.”

“So what do we do about it?” Sakura asked Neve.

Colin was the one to reply. “She says we’re supposed to support him.”

Neve brightened at the chance to show what she knew. “Yeah, like this!” She rushed forward and jumped up onto Link’s bed, making the mattress bounce. Kukiel backed away in surprise as Neve wiggled her way flush against Link’s chest and under his arm. Her head disappeared under the pillow, and the other children heard her giggle.

The arm over Neve moved, and Link pulled the pillow away from his head before slowly rolling over. Neve wasn’t discouraged. She slid over Link’s side and repeated the same act. He turned again, and she followed him again. Neve’s friends and brother looked on in mounting concern, for they knew adults could be scary if they were irritated. When Neve’s head butted up beneath Link’s chin, his teeth clicked together, and the other children drew in a collected breath. 

Link opened his eyes and looked down at the young girl stretched out beside him. Neve giggled against his chest, and he closed his eyes again. The frown that had wrinkled his brow smoothed out when a sigh of defeat escaped him. 

The children took that as a cue to join in, and they scrambled up onto the bed. Kukiel and Sakura took seats at Link’s back while Colin dropped down by his covered legs. Kukiel lowered her head to Link’s side and closed her eyes. His solidness was reassuring; she had worried about him all these days since the frightening encounter with him and the witches.

Sakura, too, dropped her head. She smiled as she listened to Link’s heartbeat. “What’s that _whoosh_ sound?” she asked the others.

“His lungs?” Colin guessed with his head on Link’s knees.

Sakura’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah! Wow, Onii-san, you have really deep lungs!”

Link’s reply was an exceptionally deep breath, and the girls laughed when their heads rose and fell atop his expanding chest. Neve begged for a turn, as did Colin, and so the children swapped positions.

“Wow,” Neve echoed as her head rose and fell. She yawned next. She had missed her nap, for the ride to the castle was a long, bumpy one. 

“Neve!” Colin called when his sister’s eyes slipped closed. There was no waking her; even shaking her shoulder didn’t stir her. She continued to rise and fall, though not as much now that Link had fallen back into softer breaths. Her thumb went to her mouth, but Colin pulled it out again. 

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Kukiel remarked. She dropped down to the bed and laid her head on Link’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve napped since I was a kid.”

“You’re still a kid,” Sakura reminded her. Her head was on Link’s ribs, and her eyelids were drooping.

Colin laughed softly and shifted back down to prop his head against Link’s knees. He had no intentions to nap, but his body had other ideas. He fell back into the quiet calm of the room until a gentle knock on the door woke him and the girls. 

It was Impa. She nudged the door open with an elbow and walked in with a loaded tray held in her hands. There was a large plate of sandwiches cut into triangles, a jug of orange juice, a stack of five plates and cups, and a pile of silky napkins. The tray was lowered to the nightstand by Link’s head. Impa cast a smile at the discarded pillow and threaded her fingers through his bangs. Link didn’t stir, but Impa felt the quickened pulse in his temple. She murmured a few Sheikan words and stroked his cheek before turning to the children. 

“I’ve brought cucco and cheese, and roast beef and cheese,” Impa announced. “Link really likes the roast beef, so try and get him to eat some for me, all right?” The children nodded as one. “Okay. I’ll be with Princess Zelda down the hall if you need me.” Impa left the room. There was another tray on a wheeled cart in the hall. It rattled all the way to the sitting room.

Colin took charge of distributing the food and drink, as being the eldest of the four he had the steadiest hands. He cautioned the girls against spilling the juice on the sheets. Neve remarked how much like their mother he sounded, to Kukiel’s and Sakura’s amused agreement. Afterwards, there was a short span of silence as the children set into their meal. Eager hands went for second and third triangles. Neve made a Triforce out of her pieces before taking a bite out of each one.

Link laid still and quiet while the children picnicked around him. He appeared to be asleep, although for a while none of the children were brave enough to test the theory. It was Sakura who finally took a roast beef and cheese triangle and inched it towards Link’s mouth. “Onii-san, Onii-san, aren’t you hungry?” she sang. The corner of the sandwich touched his lips. 

Kukiel sighed. “He’s probably still asleep, Sakura.” 

“He’s faking,” Sakura insisted, playfully. “Come on, Onii-san, you know you want a bite. Oh!” Sakura squealed, and when her friends looked to her in alarm she showed them how her sandwich’s narrow point was gone. Link’s jaw was shifting, and there was a crumb on his lips. Kukiel laughed, took hold of a sandwich, and tried herself. She squealed as well when Link bit off the offered point with an exaggerated chomp. 

“I want to try!” Neve cried. She braced a hand on Link’s stomach for support to move up the mattress. 

The mirth in the room dried up in an instant when Link gasped and shrunk into himself at the touch. His eyes snapped open, and he shot a brief glare at Neve. Neve scooted off of the bed with all haste and retreated to the footboard. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. She had forgotten about the bandages around Link’s abdomen. 

Link sighed and pushed himself up. He moved slowly, and braced his back against the headboard once he was upright. All of the children were off of the bed by now, and gathered around Neve. They watched Link pull up the edges of his bandage to check the wound beneath. It was apparently fine, for he relaxed against the headboard and closed his eyes with another sigh.

Neve approached him first and climbed up into the bed. She pressed against his side and wrapped her arm around his torso with care. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. Link opened his eyes, shook his head at the apology, and rubbed her shoulder. It was the sign the other children needed to rejoin him. They clambered back into the bed, and relayed their happiness at seeing Link whole and back to normal. Link accepted a plate of sandwiches and a glass of juice from Colin. He chewed and swallowed slowly with long pauses between bites and sips.

Colin asked the question on everyone’s minds. “Are you feeling better, Link?” 

Link contemplated the question with far-off eyes before shaking his head. When Neve broke into tears, he shot her a startled look. 

“We’re supposed to cheer you up,” Kukiel explained. 

“Neve,” Sakura called. “Just because Link isn’t feeling better, that doesn’t mean we didn’t cheer him up. Right?” She looked to Link, and he nodded in agreement. “See, Neve? We did a good job!”

Link nodded again when Neve looked at him, and the girl’s sniffles dried up. Yet they had already attracted attention that Link didn’t want. He looked away from the bedroom door as it was pushed all the way open, and Impa and Zelda rushed into the room.

“Is everything all right?” was Impa’s first question. She glanced at Link, and his eyes darkened. 

“We’re fine,” Colin assured her. “Neve just got a little _emotional.”_

“I did not!” Neve countered.

Zelda giggled and moved around the bed to step into Link’s line of sight. “I’m glad to see you’re awake,” she said with a warm smile. Link’s eyes met hers for a brief moment before dropping in shame. The princess’s smile faltered. “You’re not still fretting over that battle, are you?”

“Princess Zelda,” Impa called across the bed. “Perhaps we should withdraw. Everything seems fine, and we don’t want to hold up Link’s lunch anymore.”

“Oh, but…” Zelda dropped onto the bed beside Sakura. “It’s much more comfy in here than that stuffy sitting room. What do you say, Link? Can we join you and the kids for lunch?” She waited for a shake of his head, or his continued silence. She got a nod instead, and her smile brightened. 

#

The bandages came off two days later. They left Link with a knot of scar tissue that reminded him of the lifelines in his palms. He found himself tracing the raised lines through his clothes whenever he wandered the gardens and Castle Town. When in the latter, people avoided Link more than they ever had before. Perhaps they could see something changed in his eyes. They didn’t harass or challenge him, and he was fine with that. He didn’t have the energy or concern to spare for them.

By the fourth day out of bed, Link was able to walk several hours without growing short of breath. He walked to Hyrule Field and spent an hour along its roads whistling for his horse and his guay. Kara found him first. She descended from a tree branch and circled his head with an eager _ree-ree-ree._ Link offered her his scarred palm as a landing point, and he imitated the clip-clop of hooves with his tongue. Kara took off again, and Link followed her. He continued in the same direction long after she had flown out of sight, and within the hour he heard hoof-falls on the road.

Epona was unharmed and healthy, and she still had all of Link’s saddlebags on her. He spent a few minutes praising and reassuring the mare through touch; she had missed him greatly. Link walked her back to the castle’s stables and immediately set to seeing her washed and rubbed down. He removed her tack and searched for sores or injuries that it might be hiding. Everything seemed fine, and the head stableman agreed with Link after his own, more thorough check. (Epona earned several sugar cubes for her cooperation with the man.) Kara watched all of the worrying from a rafter. Once Epona was deemed to be in healthy shape, and fed and watered in a clean stall, Link left the stables. Kara swooped down to perch in his hair.

Save for his animals’ company, Link remained largely alone through the first two weeks after the battle at Lake Hylia. He joined the Royal Family’s table at mealtimes, but said nothing and ate only enough to satisfy Impa. His eyes tightened whenever someone addressed him, and his breaths quickened the longer they tried to coax a response from him. By the fourth day they learned to stop trying to engage him in lengthy conversation, lest that it would trigger a panic attack.

It wasn’t that Link was angry or afraid of Impa and Zelda, or the children that visited him sometimes. Simply, he didn’t feel he was worthy of their attention. He had attacked each of them, and Ganondorf as well. _He had killed._ He was in the midst of blinding rage, and they were witches set to kill him, so really it was self-defense… But such an excuse withered in the wake of Link’s grief and detachment. 

That latter was the most frightening. Link’s indifference to what had happened disturbed him. It was as if it was already habit to plunge a sword into someone’s gut; to threaten friends; to lose oneself so completely to fear, grief, and anger. He tried more than once to try and invoke feelings, but his memories of the battle played out like theater while he watched from the back row, unmoved.

To get away from his thoughts, Link rode Epona around Hyrule Field most days, always returning to the castle afterwards--why, he didn’t know. The rest of his time was spent in the gardens, reminiscing and tracing patterns across his scar. He slept in the gardens as well. He made a show of going to his bedroom at night, only to sneak out of his window when the castle was quiet. He knew Impa suspected it. After all, it was difficult to ignore mud in the sheets or rain-dampened nightclothes more than once.

His thoughts and wandering were made lonelier by the fact that the voices in his head were now silent.

#

The fourth time that the children visited, they begged Link to take them to Lake Hylia. The day’s heat called for it, they insisted. Wouldn’t it be great to go swimming and cool off? They could take a picnic basket. Link’s indifference allowed him to ignore his past reluctance to visit the lake, and he agreed. He hitched Epona to a cart while Impa repeated caution to the children, and stressed that they listen to Link at all times. Kara took a perch on the cart’s traces, Link snapped the reins, and the children called goodbyes as the cart pulled away from the castle. 

They reached Lake Hylia by midday, and joined a group of children from the oddly-named Animal Village who were already in the water. Link freed Epona from the cart so that she could graze on the shore. The Animal Village children recognized his blue tunic, and were wary of him until they were reassured by Kukiel and Sakura. Tension further eased when Link stripped down. In only his pants, he looked as normal as any other Hylian. His scarring was considered by the children for only a minute before dismissed.

The water welcomed Link into its cold embrace when he dove into it from an outcropping. There was a brief flash of struggling under the water’s weight with sodden wings, but Link pushed the past aside to embrace the present. He ascended to the surface and broke through with a gasp. Some distance away, the children were splashing in the shadows. Link kept to the deeper end, sucked in his fullest breath, and submerged himself. 

Eight minutes. Not bad for his first try in weeks. A few more sessions would have him back in his prime, pushing eleven and twelve minutes again. For now, eight minutes was more than enough to impress the children. Link emerged to find them staring at him. Some of them laughed and clapped. It soon became a game for them to throw a distinct rock as far as they could, and to have Link swim for it and back without taking a breath. It was, in all meanings of the term, child’s play. Link was a swift swimmer as well as deep-lunged. Sometimes he swam to the left or right to emerge far from where he had started, and the children made a second game of catching sight of him first.

After a few hours’ worth of swimming, all of the children came to the blanket that was spread for lunch. There was plenty of food to go around for the guests, and the shared meal further strengthened the ties the children had already made between each other. They babbled about a wide range of topics while Link rested in the shade of a tree with Kara on his bent knee. 

Link tried not to think on it, but the memory came through regardless: the spread ashes; the mournful drawl of the prayers; the sun that shined on the lake as if in mockery of the flames that had burned an hour before. He could remember Impa’s hand rubbing his upper back, and how she had carried him home on her own horse long after everyone else had left in carriages. 

Link had stayed in bed for two days after that, only coming around again when Impa insisted on a walk in Hyrule Field. She explained a lot of things to him that day--of how the clouds soaked up water from every lake and river, and how that water later became rain that fed all of the plants that grew in Hyrule, as well as the wells that people drew drinking water from. She said that in this way, Link’s family and friends were still with him, for now they were part of Lake Hylia and thus the whole of Hyrule. “And they’re always listening and watching from the Sacred Realm,” Impa added in the end. 

Link wondered how true that was. Was Aryll watching him at this moment? Were his parents? What did they think of him now? Of how he had acted all of his life? He wondered if they were disappointed in him for his weaknesses, or felt pride for all he had accomplished while protecting people from the threat of monsters. Link’s face darkened in the wake of these worries. He rolled over and closed his eyes to take in the smell of the damp earth. Kara fluttered over to the picnic blanket to beg for food. She had learned from Link that “please” was a magic word.

Link took the children directly home from the lake, and returned to Hyrule Castle with an empty cart and picnic basket. When Zelda saw him, she remarked that his complexion looked better. Link’s immediate response was to wonder if she was saying that just to be nice. Such thoughts had crossed his mind a lot lately. The difference in how Zelda and Impa acted around him nowadays was all too clear. They were friendlier, yet also warier. It was a strange combination, but that was how it felt to Link. It was like a person welcoming home a brother they loved while aware that he could be dangerous. Zelda’s greetings bordered on saccharine, and she asked Link how he was feeling multiple times a day even though he only shrugged in response. Impa still talked to him in her mix of Hylian and Sheikan, but she didn’t call him _Bleufarwe_ anymore.

Three weeks after the battle, the castle still had not started to press in on Link. He wondered if he had finally submitted to a lazy life within it, surrounded by stone walls and curtains that still had his mother’s touch in the needlework. Was his trauma to blame for this lethargy that had come over him? Link couldn’t allow that. He began to visit the barracks to fill the hours he didn’t spend wandering. His archery skills and swordsmanship all came back to him over a few days’ hard training, and yet at times it was hard to focus on a target or practice dummy and not see Zelda, or Impa, or…

“Hey,” Ganondorf greeted from the fence on the third morning of Link’s self-imposed training. Link’s sword stuttered to a stop before he could strike a dummy, and he shot a wary eye at Ganondorf. “What’s with the look?” the Gerudo king pouted. “I came all this way to see you on a market day in The Fortress, and you know how exciting those days can be, _neh?”_ He raised his eyebrows briefly before vaulting the fence. The heavy fall of his weight reminded Link of the power the Gerudo king held, and how he had nearly used it to end the Regn Hylian.

Perhaps Ganondorf guessed the line of Link’s thoughts, for he held up both hands and said, “I’m not going to hurt you,” before he approached Link. “That’s behind me. I’m sorry, by the way. I lost myself for a while back then. In fact…” He looked away. “I may have enjoyed hurting you a bit too much.” With a shamefaced expression, he turned back to Link. “May I see it? I’d like to reassure myself that I haven’t killed you. I’ve seen my ancestor’s memories so often since our fight, it’s hard to know if you’re a phantom hero or not.”

Link sheathed his sword, and rolled up his tunic and undershirt. Ganondorf dropped to a knee in order to inspect the scar tissue. His thumb glided over the lines while he said, “Lady Impa did a magnificent job on you.” He stood up with a faint grunt. “Your beloved princess was a great boon, as well. I hope you’ve thanked her and Impa for their help. No, you haven’t, have you?” Link’s dropped eyes were answer enough. “You haven’t spoken a single word.”

Link frowned. If Ganondorf was going to berate him, he wouldn’t try to stop it from happening. He deserved any punishment put to him. After all, he had killed the Gerudo king’s mothers. He stood with his head bowed and his body braced for a blow or harsh words. 

Ganondorf’s shadow fell over Link, and his heavy hand rose up to ruffle the Hylian’s hair. Link flinched before he recognized it was a benign gesture. He cast a cautious look up through his tousled bangs, and Ganondorf smiled thinly. “You’re worried about my mothers. You think you need to apologize to me? That I should be angry with you?” Link pulled his head out from under Ganondorf’s hand, and dropped his eyes again. “Don’t worry about feeling sorry. They’ll be back.”

Link’s head snapped up, and a look of terror came to his eyes. 

Ganondorf met the expression with a mouth pressed into a thin line. “They didn’t reach four hundred years of age without a few tricks up their sleeves. We weren’t their first puppets, and we won’t be their last. But with luck, they won’t bother you ever again. And if they do…” He made a show of cracking his knuckles. “They’ll have me to contend with.”

Link’s face clouded over with worry, and he crossed his arms over his chest. Ganondorf sighed. “Not even a smile?” he asked. Link’s brow furrowed the slightest bit, and his foot scuffed the dirt. “All right. Get Epona,” Ganondorf ordered. “We’ll get away from here for a while. How does the coast sound?”

It was what Link didn’t know he needed. He raised his head and nodded. A little more than three hours later, the scent of the sea was in his nose, and the clamor of Zora Cape was in his ears. Epona raised her head to take in the sights along with her rider. She had desired a change of scenery just as much as Link, and the reunion with Torrent had noticeably brightened her mood. 

Upon arriving, the horses were hitched together, and Ganondorf led the way along the curve of the port. He stopped in front of his favorite fish stall--still crammed in its narrow slot--and handed a wallet off to Link. “See you in a bit,” the Gerudo king said before ducking into the stall. The cramped space grew tighter when Link joined him at the counter. Ganondorf raised his eyebrows as Link took the second of the two seats under the stall’s awning. The young man shrugged off the unspoken question, but he looked pale, and he was breathing shallowly. He allowed Ganondorf to order for him, and the smell of grilling fish further drained his face of color.

“You’re free to leave,” Ganondorf said after the plates were lowered to the counter. 

Link shook his head and blew the steam off of his first bite. His gag reflex kicked in when the strong fish fell on his tongue, but he beat it back and forced the first swallow down. After that, each subsequent bite went down easier. By the last few bites, he found himself almost enjoying the meal. The taste brought back bad memories, but there were a lot more good ones to be found, and they were more powerful.

After eating their fill, Link and Ganondorf walked the length of the port and back at an easy pace. Link stopped in at Brune and Cerul’s shop along the way. The Zoras were a little put off by his silence, but he smiled for them when they asked, and that cheered them. Link was jealous of how easily Ganondorf spoke the Zoran language (Cerul had come a long way with his Hylian, but he still preferred his native tongue), and he made a mental note to try and learn it one day after he mastered Gerudian.

Link didn’t have to ask to visit the quieter beach, and this time Ganondorf didn’t impose a time limit. The horses took off across the sand while the men pulled off their shirts and boots. Link’s eyes lingered on Ganondorf’s _tatau._ When he was noticed, he looked away in haste.

Ganondorf sighed. “I’ll redo it for you whenever you want,” he promised Link. “And I’ll do it right this time, with no poorly executed concern.”

Link nodded as he tightened his new hair tie--a gift from Brune and Cerul. He understood that Ganondorf had only tried to help. And he certainly wanted a new _tatau_ to replace the one he had lost. Yet he wasn’t sure if he wanted exactly the same thing. Perhaps something much smaller, and not anytime soon. 

The sea welcomed Link back in a different way than Lake Hylia had. The lake had caressed him; the sea took hold of his shoulders, shook him around, and hugged him roughly. He pulled out of its grip and swam to the calmer shallows. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in the water. There were long minutes of peaceful floating or swimming cut in with more vivid moments. Once, a small fever of stingers swam below Link, following the seabed. He dove down to run his hand down a few of them. They were testier than gyorgs, and they zipped away from any touch that lasted more than a second. A seahorse distracted Link for a few minutes as it moved from coral to coral at the mercy of the tides. A tailsparan would have eaten it if not for Link’s shadow, which scared the monster back into its hole. 

There were also saltwater Zoras. They passed by Link--a group of five--and slowed down to wave a greeting. They appeared impressed by his breath holding skills, but they didn’t linger for long, and soon swam away into the murk of the deeper ocean. Link had a whimsical thought to follow them, yet even he was intimidated by the ocean’s depths. He remained in the shallows, swimming and sightseeing, until he felt it was time to return to the shore.

Ganondorf was lying on the sand and smoking. Link wrung out the water from his ponytail and sidelocks before sitting down to the Gerudo king’s left. The sun was kissing the waterline, and smearing the sea with pink and orange light. The breeze coming off of the water was a little cooler. Link drew his legs up and folded his arms atop his knees before dropping his chin onto them. The spiced aroma of the Gerudian tobacco smoke mixed with the salty air. He took a deep breath, held the scents in his lungs for a few seconds, and exhaled.

Ganondorf sat up and flicked away the remains of his played-out cigarette into the sea. The water ate up the twisted wrapping paper and remnant tobacco with as much indifference as when it eroded a cliff. “You’ve made your decision, haven’t you?” Ganondorf asked, and Link closed his eyes. “Break it to them gently. They care a lot about you.”

Link nodded more than one agreement before he hid his face in his folded arms. His shoulders rose and fell in a shuddering sigh. He wasn’t looking forward to the return to the castle, but it had to be done. 

Ganondorf reached out and squeezed Link’s shoulder. “It’ll be all right, little fish.”

Link wanted to believe him. He next thought to himself, _Why_ can’t _I believe him? I have to make an effort._ He lifted his head at this, and he forced a small, hopeful smile to his lips. It was going to be all right.

#

The smile and confidence was gone come the next morning when Link stood in his bedroom with Impa and Zelda seated on his bed before him. It was hard for him to look them in the eyes, for their faces were a mix of pain, confusion, and self-blame. He started to trace his scar through his clothes, caught himself, and dropped the hand to his side. 

Impa was the first to speak, and her voice trembled when she repeated Link’s words. “You’re leaving Hyrule…”

“Forever?” Zelda rushed out.

Link shook his head and answered softly, “No, not forever, but a couple of years at least.”

“Link…” Zelda stood up and took hold of the hand Link held stiff at his side. “We don’t blame you for what happened. No innocents were killed, and you came back to us. That’s all that matters.”

Link sucked in a shuddering breath. “I’ve put you and this kingdom through so much these past five years. It has to stop.”

“Don’t you dare say you’re leaving for our sakes!” Impa snapped in a high voice. Zelda looked to her in alarm. “That’s a thin, cowardly reason to put us through the grief of your departure! We’re family, and we get through our difficulties together!” 

There were tears growing in Impa’s eyes. They pulled at Link’s heart, as did her words. Coupled with Zelda’s warm grip and her entreating eyes, he found it hard to speak. He swallowed the knot in his throat and replied in a heavy voice, “It’s for my own sake.” Impa fell into a surprised silence. “I will never get a handle on my grief and bitterness unless I get away from the source. To do that, I must leave Hyrule. This whole country is saturated with bad memories for me.”

“But what about the good memories?” Zelda asked in a whisper.

Link put his other hand over hers. “I’ll take those with to keep me company,” he promised. Zelda nodded, but she couldn’t keep her composure. She fell into Link’s arms and wrapped her arms tight around him. Her tears dampened his collar. Link wanted to embrace her back, but it was hard to get past years of conditioning against such intimate contact with the princess. He tried anyway, and he supposed he did a good enough job--not much different from hugging Neve--because Zelda’s arms tightened more.

“You’ll give us one more day with you, right?” Zelda asked. 

Link nodded. “I’ll leave tomorrow evening.”

The rest of that day was spent riding around Hyrule. Link visited Izumi Village first to say goodbye to Kukiel and Sakura. He kissed the back of their hands in the princely way they so admired, and he took them for a ride on Epona through the woods. Their tears when he finally left were heartbreaking, and no promise of a return in a few years’ time softened the sobs.

The villagers pushed food onto Link before he departed. He kept what he could and gave the rest to Uli when he arrived at Ordon Village. He had thought Kukiel’s and Sakura’s reactions were heart wrenching, but the lost look that came to Neve’s eyes hurt more. Colin attempted to keep his head, but Link could see he was on the verge of tears. The boy finally broke down when Link hugged him and his sister. Their clenching fingers left marks in Link’s back.

Uli took hold of Link’s hand when he had a free moment. “Come back to us safe,” she begged. Link nodded and promised to do so. He shared a final meal with the family before leaving them. Every step that grew between him and the village felt like an impenetrable wall going up. He thought that was good, though. He could only move forward from now on, and sooner or later he would get so far ahead that he would find himself circling back to Ordon. He had to believe that.

Malon was out of Izumi Village when Link visited; she was prospecting with Shad for land to build a new house. Word must have passed to her, however, for she and her fiancé found Link in the field. They rode up to him on a pair of Malon’s horses; the horse doctor’s face was splotchy with tears.

Link dismounted to better speak with them, and he was immediately taken up in Malon’s strong, tight embrace. She didn’t have to say ‘I’ll miss you’. It was in every inch of her shaking body. Link patted her shoulder as best as he could while confined by her arms. 

Shad looked miserable. “You’ll forgive me for my lack of enthusiasm,” he said to Link, only to hug the Regn Hylian seconds later. Malon laughed through her tears when Link shot her a startled look over Shad’s head. “Promise me you’ll come back with stories to tell, my friend.”

“I promise,” Link said. Shad released him and offered a hand. Link shook it, and accepted Malon’s kiss to his cheek. 

Zelda kissed the opposite cheek when Link stood before her and Impa that night. Epona shifted on restless hooves to Link’s right. She understood tonight’s departure was different. Link calmed her down with a few clicks of his tongue and some strokes along her nose. With her settled, he was able to walk up to Impa and bow. _“Farawelta forvuwinda,”_ he said. His voice hitched around the words.

Impa bowed in return. _“Eow blodung wid esegal hap.”_ She snatched him into a tight hug before he had fully straightened up. _“Lubaic eow, Bleufarwe,”_ she added in his ear. She kissed his head. _“Min kilthei. Min lytel rabeta timere.”_

Link was going to cry. And if that happened, he would never leave the warm arms around him. _“Ealsbaicmin, meistre,”_ he managed before breaking away. He hugged Zelda once more before mounting his saddle and spurring Epona into a fast run. He had to get away, _now,_ before he could regret the decision. He hurried his mare as much as he could, leaving hoof prints and spots of tears in the road.

Once Zelda’s and Impa’s faces had faded from the forefront of Link’s mind, he considered a detour to the remains of Silbarine. He pushed the idea aside when he remembered the little but significant progress he had made so far in putting his past behind him. A literal or figurative step in the wrong direction could undo his efforts and weaken his resolve. He turned Epona down a fork that would take him as far from Silbarine as possible while still leading him to his destination: southern Hyrule--to the Lost Woods, the south checkpoint within them, and the rest of the world beyond that.

#

Ashei looked up at the sound of hooves on the dark road. She hoped it was her relief. She hated the nightshift at the southern checkpoint. The Lost Woods pressed in on both sides of the road and gate, ominous and silent. It was enough to put anyone on edge.

Anyone except the traveler approaching the checkpoint now. It wasn’t Ashei’s relief after all. She wondered who was brave enough-- _stupid_ enough--to travel through the Lost Woods at night. Well, it didn’t matter. A toll was a toll no matter what idiot handed it over. Ashei stepped out of the guard tower and positioned herself by the gate.

The checkpoint’s torches revealed the traveler’s face and body were obscured by a dark, hooded cloak. It had a familiar design, and the mare further cemented the traveler’s identity. Ashei slumped, and her shoulders dropped as she said, “I thought it was just a rumor.” 

The hood turned away, but the guay perched on Link’s shoulder fluttered her wings. “Pretty,” she chirped.

Ashei’s gloom broke apart into laughter. “I’ll take that as payment enough.” She unlocked the gate and pushed it open; its old hinges squealed. “I won’t bother telling you to be careful. I’m sure Impa mentioned all that fluff for me. But hey--take care of yourself, yeah?”

“I will,” Link promised. He offered Ashei a hand, and she shook it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ashei returned. She waved a goodbye when Link spurred Epona through the checkpoint.

The Lost Woods soon swallowed the torches that marked the checkpoint in Link’s wake, and the Hylian was further cloaked in darkness. He lit a lantern to guide his way along the road. To deviate from it in the middle of the night would be suicide, yet even on the road there could be dangers. Link kept his eyes open and fixed on the circle of light his lantern spread. He also paid close attention to Epona and Kara, for they would likely notice any danger before him.

When Epona did raise her head higher, it wasn’t in alarm. Link nearly toppled out of the saddle when the mare broke into a gallop with a whinny. She was heading for a spot of blue light that had bloomed with sudden brightness further down the road. Link watched the light grow, knowing already what it belonged to. His lantern’s light was soon overtaken by the blue glow, and Epona whinnied a greeting. Kara fluttered and chirped a name.

Ganondorf was watching the dark edge of the Lost Woods, but he turned to Link with a small smile when the Hylian halted Epona. His hands snapped the unique arrowhead closed, leaving only Link’s lantern to give light. “’Let’s be pariahs together’,” the Gerudo king quoted. “’We can travel the worlds beyond Hyrule and get into all kinds of trouble.’ Does the offer still stand?”

Link pushed down his hood and accepted the arrowhead when Ganondorf offered it. He couldn’t keep the shake out of his hands when he put the peculiar object away; he remembered the fear and anger that had accompanied its last use. “Aren’t you a king?” Link questioned. “You can’t just abandon your duty, can you?”

Ganondorf shrugged his wide shoulders before bending over his saddle to light his own lantern, which hung from the saddlebags he had packed on Torrent. (Link recognized the multi-colored flames of Din’s Fire when it sparked out of Ganondorf’s fingertips.) “Nabooru makes a better leader than me,” Ganondorf answered when his light had overlapped with Link’s. “And in my opinion, a woman makes for a better leader of a people that’s comprised of females.” 

Ganondorf rolled a cigarette next, taking his time. Link stayed silent, as he suspected Ganondorf wasn’t as entirely at ease with his decision as he was letting on. The Hylian supposed it wasn’t easy to give up something you were literally born into. After the cigarette was lit, Ganondorf took a long drag and exhaled through his nose before continuing, “I had a long talk with her. She helped me to weigh the pros and cons. If I’m not back at The Fortress by nightfall tomorrow, she’ll know I’ve abdicated. That means the final decision is in your hands.”

Much like Ganondorf, Link busied himself to avoid immediately answering. He pulled an apple and knife out of his saddlebags, and polished both of them against his tunic. “And if I say no?” he eventually put forth.

Ganondorf shrugged again. “It will probably be better for you. Safer, I mean.” Link frowned at that, and Ganondorf reached out to press a hand to the Hylian’s chest. “There’s this connection between us, you see. It’s a blood-drenched tread of fate. It’s unbreakable.” He pulled his hand away. “We’ve avoided our predetermined fates once. We won’t get a second chance. The Goddesses don’t play games, and they don’t like to be snubbed.”

Link frowned around a mouthful of apple. “If it could be dangerous, why do you want to go with me?”

“Because I like to think I’m not the kind of person to sit around and wait for fate to have its way with me.”

Link looked away at that, and his shifting jaws slowed. His tongue lingered on the bitter apple skin in his mouth while he thought on Ganondorf’s words. He had lived almost his whole life waiting around instead of taking action. He had allowed things to push and pull him along like a leaf adrift amidst waves. For all his skills and talents, not once did he truly utilize them to better himself. He had simply existed, putting all of his focus and energy on anything or anyone that didn’t remind him of his world-weariness. 

And then Kukiel and Sakura had come along, followed by Malon and her family, and Shad; and of course Ganondorf and Nabooru. They all reminded Link of the connections he did have--Rusl’s family, and Zelda and Impa--and the opportunities that waited for him if he only reached out beyond his comfort zone. 

Link swallowed his bite of apple as he thought on Ganondorf’s words. _“Eterta bowtan tewinta esti,”_ he murmured. Ganondorf arched his eyebrows, and Link continued, “I’ve lived with danger all my life. I’m a beacon for it. And I’ve snubbed the Goddesses for the better part of the last five years, and I’m still here. But I’m no better for all of my confidence and skill, so maybe I need to make more of an effort to change. That means I have to be willing to take on more challenges and dangers, because only by searching where I haven’t looked will I find new opportunities to get better.” He clicked his tongue, and Epona picked up her walk again.

“Is that a yes?” Ganondorf called. 

“Well, yeah.” Link looked back. “Unless you’re too much a coward to come with me, _sant bregeta.”_

Ganondorf pressed his heels into Torrent, and the stallion fell into step beside Epona. “You dare talk that way to a Gerudo king, little fish?”

_“Former_ Gerudo king,” Link reminded him. Ganondorf aimed a soft blow to his head, which Link dodged with a laugh before tossing him an apple.

##########

**Translations:**

**All of the following is Sheikan.**

_“Lubaic eow, Bleufarwe…Min kilthei. Min lytel rabeta timere.”:_ “I love you… My child. My little timid rabbit.”

_“Ealsbaicmin…”:_ “I love you, too..."


	23. Epilogue: Silent Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years have passed since Link and Ganondorf set out on their new adventure together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last part of _Blue Arrow._ If you've read up to this far, I appreciate it beyond words. You're all the best! 
> 
> Sheikan and Gerudian is spoken. Translations are provided at the bottom, of course.
> 
> Feedback of any kind is welcomed!
> 
> I've ideas for a sequel of sorts, detailing Link's and Ganondorf's adventure. I'll have to think on it.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you!

# -Blue Arrow-

### Epilogue: Silent Ruin

One could hardly tell an inanimate monster once lay in the middle of the meadow. First moss and then grass had overtaken the mass. Now flowers grew in rows along what were once splayed arms, and a sapling had taken root in the crack left behind by a peculiar arrow.

“Four years,” Sakura remarked as she and Kukiel stared up at the remains. Kukiel nodded beside her. “I wonder if we’ll ever see him again.”

“I want to think so,” Kukiel said. She looked up at the sapling. “Do you think by the time we’re eighty, this will be buried under a tree?”

“Yeah!” Sakura said, and she laughed along with Kukiel. “Do you remember when we first met him?”

“I remember you falling like an idiot, and dragging me down with you.”

“No way! You fell first, and I tried to grab you!”

They argued the particulars of that day as they continued through the woods to the ranch on the other side. It was all new, with construction having finished only two years ago. A stable and barn opened onto a wide paddock, and a fair-sized home sat not far off. Malon and Shad had moved in after their wedding, and were now a part of the Lon Lon Ranch dairy business. They also bred horses for use in the Hyrulean cavalry. 

Kukiel and Sakura had not visited the couple for nearly two months, as either they or Malon and Shad were too busy to spare a day. Now, however, the couple had invited the girls over for lunch. Kukiel carried a covered basket full of rice balls that she and Sakura had prepared as an addition to the meal. She was on the verge of sneaking one out of the basket early when the woods opened up onto the edge of the ranch’s paddock. 

Sakura swept her eyes along the fence and murmured, “Yikes.” Kukiel followed her gaze to see one of the trees on the border of the woods had fallen onto a part of the fence. “Sounds like Shad’s already working on it,” Sakura added when the distinct sound of an axe carried across the paddock. 

“Do you think he needs help?”

“You think you could swing an axe?” Sakura asked Kukiel, and she smiled. “Nah, they have that ranch hand they mentioned in the letter. Come on, I want to see Lacy!”

Lacy was Malon’s and Shad’s daughter. She was a year and a half old, and a splitting image of her mother with her father’s blue eyes. She greeted Kukiel and Sakura from her mother’s arms with much garbling speech, and she squealed when she was pressed between the girls and Malon when they embraced. The warm smell of roasting cucco was predominant throughout the first floor of the home, alongside the sweeter aroma of fresh cookies and bread. When Malon saw Kukiel’s and Sakura’s gift of rice balls, she nearly shouted in joy.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had one of these?” she asked after lifting the cloth draped over the basket. Lacy babbled in the crook of her other arm. “Not since I lived in Izumi.”

“Take one now, we won’t tell,” Sakura urged. She, like Kukiel, was starving after the walk, and if Malon took a rice ball that would give them leave to take one as well. As if reading their minds, Malon passed a sly look with the girls, and three separate hands dove into the basket. Lacy even got a bite of the sticky rice, and she smiled with grains stuck to her lips.

“Lunch is finished,” Malon said as she led the girls into the dining room where they took seats around the table. “I’m just keeping it warm while the boys finish up their work.”

“The tree?” Sakura put forth, and Malon nodded. “What happened?”

Malon shrugged. “It’s an old tree, and the winds last night must have knocked it over. I keep telling Shad we need to keep a better eye on the border or we’ll have deadfall all over, but does he listen? _No._ I’d take an axe to the dead trees myself if he didn’t insist on doing it. He says I have enough work to do with Lacy and the livestock.”

“How sweet of him!” Kukiel remarked.

Malon shrugged. “I guess,” she mumbled, but she smiled. “It wasn’t my intention to delay lunch with a tree, by the way. I’m sorry.”

Kukiel shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize to us. We know you’re busy with the ranch.”

“Yeah,” Sakura picked up. “How have things been since we last saw you?”

Malon’s eyebrows rose for a brief moment. “It’s been an adventure. You know, Shad and I didn’t invite you over today on a whim like we have before. There’s actually a reason--” She was cut off by the sound of the front door opening, and Shad’s side of a conversation. “There’s the reason now,” Malon said with another smile at the girls.

Shad rounded the edge of the doorway first, and his face lit up with a smile. “Kukiel! Sakura! See, I told you I saw them walking to the house.”

Kukiel screamed and nearly fell out of her chair. Sakura caught her, and together they stared open-mouthed at the young man who had come into the dining room after Shad. He was perhaps a little leaner--from a diet of turbulent emotions, the girls would later guess--and his eyes had a haunted look to them, but their bright blue color was the same, as was his hairstyle. The blue tunic was gone, however, replaced by clothes in earth tones, and a wide burn scar marred the back of his left hand. A second bracelet made of old, wrought metal was added to his collection of ornaments--which still included the blue arrowhead, to the girls’ delight.

Sakura swallowed and squeaked out, “Onii-san?” Link looked to her and smiled. It was what the girls were waiting for. They rushed from their chairs to embrace him together. Link nearly fell over in the wake of their enthusiasm. After stabilizing himself, he dropped a hand to each girl’s head and stroked their hair. They were crying tears of joy. Link took up each of their hands and kissed their knuckles.

Shad and Link washed up after Kukiel and Sakura calmed down. (There was still work to be done on the fallen tree, but the allure of company and lunch was too hard to ignore.) With their hands clean, they were able to help Malon set the table. Kukiel and Sakura secured Lacy in her highchair--a hand carved heirloom passed down through Malon’s sisters--and joined the adults in holding hands for a prayer which Malon led.

Questions burned on Kukiel’s and Sakura’s tongues throughout the meal. Between their conversations with Shad and Malon, they shot furtive looks at Link, who sat at the end of the table somewhat removed from the rest of the group. He smiled and nodded or shook his head when he was addressed, but he didn’t speak, and he ate the few pieces of cut cucco on his plate with almost a drugged slowness. 

It was too easy for the girls to fall into the same gloomy silence, so Kukiel and Sakura did their best to keep Link engaged. He appeared to be better for it. His smile came more easily with each remark made to him. Yet after he was finished eating, he got up from the table and took his plate to the kitchen. The sound of the back door opening and closing came to the dining room seconds afterwards.

“Going back to the tree, I bet,” Shad remarked, breaking the silence. “I’ll help him as soon as I’m done.” He was soaking up gravy with a roll.

Kukiel asked the question on the tip of her and Sakura’s tongues. “What’s wrong with him?”

Malon shrugged as she wiped mashed potatoes from Lacy’s cheeks. “We haven’t figured that out yet. Shad woke up one morning a month and a half ago to find him asleep on the porch swing. He had all of his belongings on a black horse in the front yard.”

“Not Epona?” Sakura asked.

Shad shook his head. “She wasn’t with him. Neither was that guay of his.”

Kukiel straightened in her seat. “What about Lord Ganondorf? Princess Zelda told us he went with Link. That’s why Queen Nabooru rules over the Gerudo now.”

Both adults shook their heads and passed a look between each other. They appeared to be debating something in silence. Shad eventually shrugged, and Malon nodded before saying, “Link slept for a day after arriving, and I went through his things. I wanted to sort them out and wash his clothes, and… Well, I’ll admit I was also looking for some sort of explanation as to what had happened to him these past four years.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I found some of his clothes stained with blood.”

Kukiel paled, and Sakura asked in a dry whisper, “His own?”

Again, Malon and Shad passed a look. It was briefer this time, and Shad answered, “We’re not sure.”

“Then… could Onii-san… have mur--”

“We don’t think so,” Malon cut in before Sakura could finish. “But we believe something happened that Link tried to stop. We’ve gotten that much out of what he says in his sleep.”

“We’ve asked, of course,” Shad picked up with a weak smile. “And he’s expressed an interest to write it all down. He even took one of my spare notebooks and has started. But he won’t let us read it until he’s finished.”

Kukiel breathed a sigh of relief. “So he does still talk.”

“In bits and pieces,” Malon confirmed with a nod and a smile. “He gets better every day. He’s put weight back on, and he talks to us a little. He wouldn’t even look at us for the first week. When he was finally on his feet, in a sense, he took a week to visit the castle. I imagine he reunited with Princess Zelda and Lady Impa. Last week, he finally got up the courage to go to Ordon Village, and Shad and I thought it was about time he saw you two.”

Shad wiped his mouth and stood up from the table. “I better get back to work.” He kissed Malon and thanked her for the meal.

Kukiel turned in her seat to watch Shad walk away. “Can I help?” she called after him, and he stopped to look back at her in surprise.

“Me too!” Sakura volunteered. 

Malon also spoke up, and so after clearing the table the group set out together to help Link with dismantling the fallen tree. Kukiel and Sakura, not having the strength of an adult, took turns keeping Lacy occupied, and dragging or rolling away the smaller pieces of wood. With so many hands available to help, the tree was cleared within an hour. The damage to the fence was nothing that Shad couldn’t fix alone. As a temporary measure, he and Link looped rope between the posts that were still standing. They tied off the rope to the applause and cheers of Malon and the girls.

There was lemonade to rejuvenate the workers, along with the cookies Kukiel and Sakura had smelled upon arriving. They sat in the living room to enjoy the refreshments and to catch up on the last month and a half. Lacy tottered back and forth between Shad’s and Link’s chairs in pursuit of a ball they passed between each other. She squealed whenever the ball arced through the air. Link finally let her have it, and she studied it intensely as he held her in his lap.

The temptation to speak to Link was too hard to ignore for Kukiel. She approached him not long after finishing her glass of lemonade. He looked up at her and smiled while his hands kept Lacy’s fingers occupied; she had abandoned the ball. “Onii-san…” Kukiel stopped. Would it be right to ask, given what Malon and Shad had said? “I missed you,” she said instead when her courage failed her.

Link kissed the top of Lacy’s head and lowered her to the floor. She tottered away to her parents, who were doing their best to not look like they were watching Kukiel. “I missed you too,” Link replied in a soft voice. “You want to ask something?”

Kukiel stiffened with surprise. She didn’t know it was so obvious. Her hands worked together for a few seconds before she asked with slow care, “Where is Epona?”

Sakura was studying the exchange from the sofa. Malon and Shad had given up all pretense of pretending not to watch as well. Link dropped his eyes to his lap. He tried a smile, but it withered on his lips. His fingers traced the newer bracelet on his wrist. “All my loved ones who were with me on my journey… They’re all gone, in one way or another. So I’ve come back to Hyrule to the loved ones that are here.”

Kukiel’s face flushed red. “Does that mean Sakura and me too?”

Link looked up. “Of course it does,” he assured her. Kukiel hugged him with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. Sakura rushed over to join in, and Link embraced them both.

When the girls left an hour later, Link had to reassure them more than once that he wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. Their bright joy persisted even as they walked out the door, but Link was equally grateful for the quiet that returned in the wake of their departure. He retrieved the journal he had started and took up a seat at the writing desk in the living room. 

The scratch of Link’s quill was interrupted first by Malon when she brought him a drink. She smiled when Link looked up at her. “I think you talked more today than you have this whole week. Kids really have a good effect on you, you know?” Link agreed with a reluctant nod. Malon laughed before adding, “I’m going to invite Uli and her family over for dinner tomorrow. Good idea?” 

Link nodded again and replied, “Sure.” Malon ruffled his bangs and kissed his brow before walking away to leave him to his writing. Another hour ticked by, marked by Link’s quill and a visit from the postman. Link heard Shad exclaim, but didn’t think anything of it until the man came over to the writing desk. The Regn Hylian put aside his journal to make room for the papers Shad placed on the desk. The stationary and wax seal bore the crest of the Royal Family.

“Link, my friend, I must confess something,” Shad began, unusually serious. “I’ve been thinking on this since you arrived, and I finally got a letter together and forwarded my proposal to the Royal Historical Society.”

“What sort of proposal?” Link asked. Shad’s eyes were shining with excitement, which made Link wary. The man’s enthusiasm often overrode his common sense. 

Shad raised an open hand as if begging for peace. “You have every right to refuse. If you do, I’ll toss this into the fireplace and we’ll never speak of it again.” Link rolled his eyes and made a _get on with it_ motion with his hand. “Right. So… I’ve been speaking with the Royal Historical Society, as I mentioned, and also with Lady Impa, and we think it would be a great idea to have the Sheikah purify the land where Silbarine once stood so that we can create some sort of… memorial…” 

Shad stopped, for Link’s eyes had tightened, and his breaths had stilled. He waited for some sort of refusal or outburst of anger. When a few seconds had passed by with no change, Shad continued with extra care, “Lady Impa says the Sheikah would be more than willing and capable of purifying the area of the monster’s taint. Once that’s done, we could bring the flora back to the environment, and put up a monument of some sort--something to your approval. It… It would mean tearing down the remains of the buildings that are there, however.”

Link had not yet blinked, and the quill in his tight hand was dripping ink onto the desktop. Shad dropped a slow hand onto the Regn Hylian’s shoulder, and Link jerked. His eyes fluttered, and a tear dropped from one of them. It was hastily wiped away. “A well,” Link said.

“S-Sorry?”

“A well,” Link repeated. “For the memorial. I want it to be a well. That way, people can get some sort of use out of it. I don’t want it to be some silent slab of marble or something.”

Shad’s head bobbed in an eager nod. “Absolutely! That’s a wonderful idea, my friend. And we could engrave in the bricks the names of those lost.”

“I can give you most of them,” Link said. “The rest we might be able to find in the ruins. There was a book of records kept for births and deaths. It should still be there somewhere. It was kept in an iron chest, so it should have survived the years.” He was looking and sounding almost as enthusiastic as Shad. The smile on his face dropped only once when he asked, “Do you think I could add a few additional names?”

“I don’t see why that would be a problem,” Shad replied, and Link’s smile returned. He stood up to embrace Shad in a tight hug. “It’s nothing, my friend,” Shad said in answer to the unspoken gratitude. He patted Link’s back. “We’ll get started with preparations next week.” He felt Link nod. “Go back to your writing. I’m going to get to work on the new fence posts.”

Link pulled away, and Shad pretended not to notice him wipe away more tears. “I’ll be out to help you soon. I just want to finish this bit that I’m on.”

“Of course. Take your time.” Shad left the room, leaving Link to clean up the ink spot before returning to his journal. He kept the memorial approval papers nearby and looked at them often.

#

The well had a wide mouth, allowing room for more than one or two people to draw from it at once. The groundwater, now purified by the Sheikah tribe’s spiritual magic, sat inches below the lip. Link braced his stomach against the stone and leaned down to trail his fingers through the water. He couldn’t help but smile at its cool touch. He had a crazy impulse to strip down and dive into the well, but that wouldn’t be practical given the numerous eyes on him at that moment. He settled for dropping to a knee and placing his forehead against the engraved bricks. His mouth moved in a silent prayer--not to any Goddess, but one of his own making; similar to what he had always said to each soul that gave its life to nourish his.

With the prayer done, Link kissed the sun-warmed well and straightened up. “It’s perfect!” he pronounced to those gathered around the well. He turned to face them with a bright smile, and his boots scuffed the grass and wildflower seed scattered over the bare dirt. With luck, those seeds would soon feel the touch of rain, and they would take root. “Are you all ready to try now?”

They headed towards the bowl in the earth as a large group. Link took the lead with Neve and Colin walking beside him; both had grown noticeably over the years. Close behind was Uli and her new husband. Impa and Zelda walked along with Ashei, and Kukiel and Sakura skipped back and forth between Link and Malon and Shad, who were walking a little slower with Lacy between them, holding their hands. Shad picked his daughter up when he and Malon reached the edge of the bowl, and the child squealed when her father slid and skipped down the shallow slope.

Four members of the Sheikah tribe were already waiting in the empty lake. Link shook hands and passed words with them while Colin and Neve ran off to join their family. Everyone was falling into two lines. There was an almost festive air surrounding the group as its members called back and forth, practiced moves, and teased each other.

A voice called down the slope, “Hey! Where’s that little fish at?”

Link looked up the slope and grinned at the woman on its lip. _“Cusaramin,”_ he said to the Sheikahs, and they nodded before peeling away to join the lines. “I was wondering when you were going to show up,” Link said to Nabooru after she had jogged down to him.

Nabooru rolled her eyes and feigned wiping sweat from her brow. “I had my queenly duties to attend to, and they ran longer than I wanted. I don’t know how Ganondorf always found all that extra time to run around with you in Hyrule Field.”

“He had you to take care of things,” Link said with a smile. He accepted Nabooru’s kiss to a cheek, and her hug. 

“He’s proud of you, you know,” Nabooru murmured into Link’s ear. “I know it. He’s looking down on you right now and--”

“He’s not in the Sacred Realm, Nabooru,” Link cut in, almost impatiently.

Nabooru pushed Link back and fixed a steely gaze on him. “Do you think that _idiosta_ hasn’t found his way out of the Realm Between by now? _Neh,_ he’s up there, Link. They all are. I’m sure of it. Okay?” Link nodded. “Okay. So let’s get this started, shall we?” She walked away to join the lines of people.

Link sighed and looked up at the cloudless sky. “Did you hear that, _sant bregeta?_ If you’re up there, bully those Goddesses into giving us some rain clouds.” His hand twisted the newest bracelet on his wrist. “And you help him, _lytel rabeta.”_

“Link!” Zelda called. “We’re ready!”

The Regn Hylian turned around with a sheepish smile. He walked to the people waiting for him and clasped his hands behind his back. “You’ve all been practicing, right?” A flurry of enthusiastic affirmatives answered him. “Right. So…” 

Link paused when he noticed the sunlight was growing dimmer. He looked up to see a thin veil of clouds was forming above, covering the sky for miles. Link chuckled and nodded. “Okay. We’ll try three times. If nothing happens, maybe it isn’t meant to be.” He couldn’t keep the crack out of his voice when he said this. 

There was no need for anyone to reassure Link. Their confidence as they took up the first position of the Regn Dance was enough. Link turned around and mirrored them, and they flowed into the short dance. Their movements were in perfect sync, and the last step was punctuated by a dull rumble of thunder both above and below.

Link turned and looked out across the lake. The sunlight was dim by now, which meant the glimmer he could see wasn’t a gleam of light, or a mirage. “It worked?” he murmured. The next moment, people were running past him with laughs and ecstatic screams. They were headed up the slope, running from the swelling water that was moving across the bottom of the bowl.

Zelda turned to Impa halfway up the slope. “Is Link coming?” she called over another rumble of thunder. A second later, Link rushed by her with an enthusiastic yell. Kukiel and Neve were in his arms, and Sakura was clinging to his back. They were all laughing. Colin ran alongside, whooping. He called out an order to hurry to Zelda and Impa.

“He’s putting us to shame!” Zelda laughed. Impa quickened her pace, and Zelda doubled hers as well. Link was still faster than them. He had put down the girls by the time they joined him, and he shot them a brisk smile. The roar of the filling lake traded places with the overhead thunder, and the hiss of rain accompanied both. 

Link turned his face up towards the falling rain and closed his eyes. Around him, the children ran around and skipped through steps of the Regn Dance. When he felt a tug on his shirt sleeve, Link looked down and found Colin’s curious face looking up at him. 

“What’s it called again?” the now-teenage boy asked, and he pointed at the growing lake.

“Lake Helvus,” Link replied. He looked across the wet landscape. “And this was… _is_ Silbarine.” Link pointed at a point by the lake shore. “That’s where our docks used to be, where we would fish or get into our boats. Once we stock the lake with fish and it has come back to life, I’ll take you and Neve out fishing.”

Colin smiled. “That would be cool. And I could make my own rod!”

Link smiled too and pointed to the well. “And that’s where my house used to be. What do you think? Should I build another one here?”

“Tired of Shad and me already?” Malon called, having overheard him. 

“Maybe just a summer home,” Link corrected in a loud enough voice. “With room to spare for _quiet_ guests.” Malon stuck her tongue out at him, and those nearby laughed.

Impa called Link’s name over the laughter, and he squeezed Colin’s shoulder before joining her. She was standing by what was now a lakeshore. Link took a stance by her side only to have her arm wrap around him and tug him close against her. 

“No words in Sheikan or Hylian could express how happy and proud I am for you, Link,” Impa said. “You’ve come so far from that crying boy in the corner of the gardens.”

“I’m still that crying boy,” Link reminded her. “I’ve just finally grown up.” He dropped his eyes. “It hasn’t been an easy road.”

“It’s not supposed to be,” Impa replied. “Although I’ll admit yours has been tougher than most people’s I’ve known. And there will still be rough patches.” She hugged him closer. “But you’re in a better position to face them now than you ever were before. You have people here to support you, and people watching over you from afar.”

Impa was right. Link relaxed against her side and closed his eyes to embrace both the touch of the rain and her strong arm around him. His unspoken gratitude flowed through to her while the lake water lapped inches away from their feet.

##########

**Translations:**

_“Cusaramin,”:_ [Sheikan] “Excuse me,”

_Idiosta:_ [Gerudian] idiot

_lytel rabeta:_ [Sheikan] little rabbit


End file.
